Destinies Intertwined
by h2ofalcon
Summary: It is Merlin's fate to help Arthur, the Once and Future King, usher in a new era of peace and magic, but how can he do this when he and Arthur have been reaped for the Sixty-first Hunger Games? They must fight the odds, facing enemies inside and outside the arena to end the reign of terror that is Panem and to achieve their destiny.
1. Chapter 1

**Merlin/Hunger Games Crossover**

Silence settled heavily over the crowd as the dreaded response was aired throughout Panem. Today was the day that the government would make the rebels pay penance for their insurgence. How this would be carried out was beyond the wildest guesses of the remaining citizens, but dark rumors flew through the night, whispered in one ear and passed on with a fearful glance. Now the truth would be revealed, and the rebels braced themselves for the horrors to come.

"From the Treaty of Treason; In penance for their uprising, the kingdom of Panem will henceforth be divided into twelve rebel districts, and each year shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public reaping. These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then transferred to a public arena where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Hereafter and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as the Hunger Games."

In a land of fear and a time of darkness, the destiny of a future kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy. His name; Merlin.

Merlin woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of the vase on his dresser bursting into millions of tiny shards. His mother's footsteps padded quickly down the hall and she swung his bedroom door open, a wild, panicked look in her eyes.

"Is everything okay?"

Merlin sighed wearily. "Yes, Mum. It was just a dream."

His mother came over and sat on the side of his bed, gently brushing her hand across his forehead. "The vase…" she murmured.

"I can't control it sometimes, Mum. It just happened."

She stood abruptly and motioned for him to do the same. "It's a big day, honey. You'd best get dressed for the reaping then come downstairs. Breakfast is ready, and Will is going be here to walk to the square with you in about an hour."

Merlin nodded mutely and pulled on a clean shirt and his nicest jacket. Glancing in the mirror he sighed, fingering his red neckerchief absently. He had always hated reaping day and everything having to do with the infamous Hunger Games. He couldn't understand what sick entertainment the Capitol found watching children slaughter eachother. Even the last youth standing didn't truly "win" the Hunger Games. No, the only people who won the Hunger Games were the gamemakers, and those who came out were scarred survivors, not victors.

Suddenly, the lights flickered into darkness as the district experienced another of its increasingly common power outages. Instinctively, Merlin muttered, "_leoht,_" and his azure eyes shone golden as a bright ball of light appeared, hovering inches above his upraised palm. Fumbling his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, Merlin quickly found his mother, who met him with a patronizing stare.

"What would the neighbors say if they saw that glowing through the window?" She reprimanded him sternly. "You would be reported and arrested within minutes."

Merlin quickly shut his hand, extinguishing the magical light source. He walked blindly toward the table, finding a bowl of porridge laid out for him. He spooned the thick, grainy substance into his mouth as his mother took a seat opposite him. Merlin thought back to his strange dream the night before. The memory was slowly fading, but he remembered a blond boy his age brandishing a sword in the Hunger Games. Then the image blurred, and the boy was surrounded by others, all wearing chainmail bearing a red crest with a golden dragon. Merlin couldn't help but feel that it looked familiar, then a voice said, "He is your destiny, just as you are his. You are two sides of the same coin, and it is your destiny to restore the might of Albion and right the wrongs committed by the Capitol."

Suddenly Merlin spoke. "Mum, if I get chosen at the reaping-"

"Just don't, Merlin. We've talked about this before. You are not going to get chosen. What are the odds? You have taken no tesserae, and you only have seven slips in the drawing. Other children have, what? Twenty or more? The odds are in your favor, my son." She smiled weakly as someone knocked loudly on the front door. "That'll be Will. I'll see you after the reaping is over, alright?"

"Alright." Merlin rose and headed toward the door before turning to look back at his mother. He looked into her eyes, moist with unshed tears. "I love you, Mum."

Her voice broke as she replied. "I love you too, my boy."

Outside, a misty rain greeted Merlin as he shut the door behind him. "Hello, Will," he said, trying unsuccessfully to sound like his normal, cheerful self. If Will noticed his forced tone, he didn't show it, and grunted in reply. The two boys walked in companionable silence through the hazy streets until the square was up ahead. Both took in a steadying breath. "Good luck," they said in unison. This drew a small smile from Will, but Merlin looked unsettled.

"Merlin, what's wrong?" Will asked pointedly. The other boy sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"I just have a bad feeling about the reaping, that's all." He replied. "How many slips do you have in it this year?"

Will knew Merlin was hiding the truth and trying to change the subject, but decided not to press the issue. "Thirty-five." He replied curtly, trying to put on a brave face. "With the drought and another baby on the way I had to take more tesserae."

Merlin looked away, ashamed. He had no reason to be worried about the reaping, unlike Will, who did not have the odds in his favor in any way, shape, or form. He and his mother always tried to help Will, his parents, and his five siblings, but they were by no means well off either, and didn't always have enough to give. At thirteen, Merlin had tried to take tesserae to give to Will's family, but that had earned him such a scolding that he resolved to find an easier way to help. It obviously wasn't enough.

Merlin forced the false cheer back into his voice and said, "Well, see you after the reaping."

Will offered an equally forced smile in return, as he strode off to stand with the eighteen-year olds as Merlin walked over to the seventeens' section. A Capitol official asked for his finger and he robotically complied, hardly wincing as the needle pricked his skin and his blood was smeared in the records by his name. He absently scanned the crowd, trying to take his mind off the impending ceremony, but the words of the mysterious voice kept echoing through his head. "Two sides of the same coin… your destiny to restore Albion…" What was that supposed to mean?

He was interrupted from his musings by the squeal of a microphone echoing through the square. The gamemakers were not ones to be stopped by a pesky power outage, and had already set up emergency generators behind the justice building to ensure that the show could continue. "Because that's all it is to them; a show." Merlin muttered darkly. Why couldn't the Capitol use some of those emergency generators to restore power to the district on a daily basis?

A woman strode out onstage and Merlin grimaced. Was there anyone from the Capitol that didn't resemble a walking, talking circus act gone wrong? This year Celeste, the district escort, had died her hair pink to go with her orange skin and green dress, which was adorned with golden, sequined blobs that Merlin supposed were intended to be stalks of wheat. A pair of red stilettos finished off the ensemble, effectively blinding the audience.

"Hello District eleven," she exclaimed in her atrocious Capitol accent, "and welcome to the sixty-first Hunger Games!" She paused dramatically, obviously waiting for thunderous applause, but when none was forthcoming, she scowled and continued.

"Here we have our traditional introduction, provided by the Capitol, to remind us why we gather together each year for this memorable and glorious showcase of bravery and skill in combat."

Merlin rolled his eyes as Celeste pointed a silver remote behind her toward the justice building and a screen unrolled, showing the same propaganda as was shown at the reaping every year. Merlin watched in horrified fascination as Celeste mouthed along to the words of the narrator, eyes closed reverently and never missing even a syllable. As the presentation came to an end, she opened her eyes with a sigh, and turned back to the crowd. "I just love that, don't you?"

Again, there was silence, and she glowered, both at the audience and at the misty rain, which had turned her elaborate hairdo into a bedraggled mess. "Well then, we will continue with all due haste. Let's start with the ladies."

She strutted over to the glass balls of names narrowly avoiding slipping on the slick stage in her ridiculous heels. Reaching into the left ball with a flourish, she pulled out a single slip and opened it.

"Guinevere Stallock!" she announced grandly. The crowd of fifteen-year old girls parted silently to reveal a dark-skinned girl with curly black hair, her eyes wide with fear. Merlin looked on sadly as she tilted her head up proudly and started walking toward the stage, hiding her emotions for the sake of the first impressions of potential sponsors. He didn't recognize the girl, but he grimly realized that he had a pretty good idea of what her fate would be.

Celeste welcomed Guinevere up onto the stage, turning her towards the crowd and shaking her hand before reaching towards the ball with the names of the boys. Merlin's heart clenched in sudden realization, and all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. She pulled out a slip of paper and unfolded it. "Two sides of the same coin…" Her mouth moved, shaping the name of an unlucky individual who was about to be sent to their death, and somehow he realized that it was his name that she had called.

Numbly he set his legs into motion, and all of a sudden he was on the stage facing the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Will and instinctively realized that he was about to volunteer in his place. The two friends locked eyes, and with a minute shake of Merlin's head, Will slumped in defeat, lowering his hand. Merlin and Guinevere shook hands, and looking down, he had just enough time to register the fact that her hands were sweating and his were trembling violently. Then he was being pulled backward, through the heavy doors of the justice building, which shut with an ominous boom, and corralled into a small room with guards outside.

His mother rushed in and ran over to meet him where he sat, motionless on a velvet couch by the window. She hugged him tightly, and he seemed to wake from a stupor, turning from the view outside to look into her eyes "I told you this would happen." He said simply.

Tears flooded his mother's eyes, and he hurried to hug her back so as not to see her anguish. He had to be strong, for her sake. Finally she let go of Merlin's slight frame and looked him over with the hunger of one who is seeing someone they love for the last time.

"You can't let them find out," was all she said.

Merlin's heart sank as he realized what she meant. "If I can't use magic, what have I got? I'm just a nobody and I will always will be. If I can't use magic, I might as well die, and I will die, because magic is the only thing I'm good at. How else will I defend myself in the Games?"

His mother sighed, and suddenly the guards were in the room, saying that the allotted time was up. Giving Merlin one last kiss on the forehead, his mother was escorted out of the room. "Be careful, my son."

Then she was gone. Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and a necklace with a heart pendant suddenly appeared around his mother's neck as she stepped through the doors of the justice building. She stifled a sob, and ran all the way home.

The next person to visit Merlin, predictably, was Will. Merlin took one look at the tortured expression on his best friend's face and held up his hand. "Don't even think about it. Your family needs you more than anyone needs me around here."

Will sank down to sit next to Merlin on the couch and put an arm around him. "It's too late now anyway." He murmured.

Suddenly agitated, Merlin turned to face him. "I need to show you something."

Something in his raven-haired friend's eyes gave him pause, but Will nodded. "Of course. You know you can tell me anything."

Merlin took a shaky breath, looked down at his hands, and muttered, "_Blowan._" A pure white rose bloomed in his hands, and his eyes shined golden. Will simply sat and stared at the flower, his longtime suspicions confirmed.

"You have magic." He said in wonder. Merlin sent him a pleading glance.

"Please don't hate me."

"Hate you?!" exclaimed Will. "I could have guessed that you had magic for a long time now. It was Merlin's turn to stare in shock.

"How did you know?"

"Don't worry," said Will, "You have done a pretty great job of hiding it. And your secret's safe with me."

The doors swung open and Will was taken from the room by the guards.

"Please make sure my mother is okay!" Merlin yelled in desperation.

"I will!"

The doors shut and Merlin was alone again. He turned and resumed his examination of the rolling fields and orchards out the window, blocking out the sounds of sobbing from the next room until Celeste came for him to take him and Guinevere to the train.


	2. Chapter 2

Guinevere had obviously been crying, and as they entered the car that was to take them to the train station, she hurriedly brushed the tears away and assumed the same bravely stoic expression that she had used to mask her fear at the reaping. Merlin turned his attention away from his district partner and examined the inside of the vehicle in fascination. The world outside slid by quietly as if by magic, and the sleek silver and leather interior of the car was like nothing Merlin had ever seen or felt before. Disappointingly soon, they reached the train station, and were forced out of the vehicle to face the flashing cameras and the barrage of questions that stood between the car and the train door.

Merlin stared straight ahead, ignoring the reporters and bright lights, wishing for the quiet solitude of his bedroom at home or the orchards behind his house. After what seemed like miles, the small party finally arrived at the train and were hurriedly corralled inside. Both Guinevere and Merlin let out a collective gasp of amazement at the lavish décor of the room that greeted them. Dazzling bejeweled chandeliers dripped diamonds above mahogany tables topped with crystal and the most food that either tribute had ever seen in one place in their entire lives. A stocky old man with shoulder-length white hair rose from his seat to meet them. He smiled at their amazement, remembering his similar reaction many years ago upon stepping into his first Capitol train car.

"My name is Gaius," he introduced himself. "I will be your mentor throughout the next few weeks. If you need anything or have any questions, please let me know and I promise I will try to the best of my abilities to help you."

Guinevere stepped forward and kissed Gaius on the cheek. He looked startled, and Merlin stifled a grin. "My name is Guinevere, and this is Merlin." Merlin waved awkwardly.

Recovering from his surprise at Guinevere's greeting Gaius cleared his throat. "Uhmm… Well. Why don't the two of you change into something more comfortable and wash up before lunch? I am sure Celeste can show you two where your rooms are."

Merlin and Guinevere nodded, and Celeste beckoned for them to follow her. The doors slid open to reveal a long hallway, and Celeste hurried them along, pointing to two doors on the right. "These are your rooms," she stated curtly. "Lunch is in half an hour."

Stepping inside his assigned room, Merlin saw that the luxuriousness of the dining car also extended to his sleeping quarters. The bathroom alone was twice the size of his room at home, and in one corner was a glass box with rows upon rows of shiny silver buttons. Merlin decided to do what Gaius had recommended, and walked over to the closet to find a change of clothes. Outfits of every color and style met his eyes, and he shook his head in confusion. He didn't want to wear any of this Capitol-made clothing. All he wanted was one of his simple shirts from his dresser at home. Eventually settling on a blue shirt similar to the one that he had just taken off and donning a soft brown jacket, Merlin flopped onto the bed in the center of the room. The mattress dipped under his weight and he felt like he was lying on a cloud. Closing his eyes, suddenly it sank in. This was the room that had belonged to tens of other male tributes from District eleven before him, most of which were now dead. Suddenly the bed didn't feel so comfortable anymore.

Anxious to leave his room, Merlin decided to return to the dining area that he had seen earlier. His stomach rumbled in agreement, and he thought maybe if he was early he could grab something to eat before lunch. After a few wrong turns, Merlin finally reached his destination and the doors slid open suddenly, releasing a puff of dust. Merlin sneezed, and from across the room he heard a sharp cracking sound as the ladder Gaius was using to reach a book on the top shelf shattered and the man fell through the air.

With a flash of gold, time slowed to a crawl, and with a second flash, a cushioned chair moved across the room without assistance to break the old man's fall. Time resumed its normal pace, and Gaius fell with a thump onto the pillow. The old man sat up immediately, his gaze accusatory. "What did you just do?" he demanded.

Fear jolted through Merlin as he realized what he had just done. "Erm…" he said, trying to buy time. What was he going to say that wouldn't get him killed? He was a terrible liar.

"Tell me."

"I-I-I have no idea what happened," stammered Merlin.

"If anyone had seen that…"

Merlin desperately racked his brain for an excuse. "Er, no! That- that was… that was nothing to do with me! That- that was…"

Gaius impatiently interrupted Merlin's ramblings. "I know what it was! I just want to know where you learned how to do it!"

Merlin looked at his feet. "Nowhere," he mumbled.

"So how is it you know magic?"

"I don't," replied Merlin.

"Where did you study?... Answer me!" Gaius exclaimed in exasperation.

Deciding that this man knew too much about magic to be lied to, Merlin decided that boldfaced honesty was the best way to go. "I- I've never studied magic or been taught."

Gaius squinted suspiciously at the boy, who was staring at him earnestly, nervously fingering his neckerchief. "Are you lying to me, boy?"

The fear in Merlin's eyes turned into exasperation. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth!"

Merlin took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Gaius what he had never shared with anyone before. "I was born like this," he said quietly.

All animosity melted from Gaius's face, and he sat heavily back down into the chair that Merlin had used to cushion his fall. "That's impossible," he muttered to himself. "Who are you?"

Merlin shrugged, unsure how to respond. The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Celeste and Guinevere into the dining car. Merlin had a strange expression on his face, and Guinevere looked questioningly at him. Completely oblivious to the strange tension in the room. Celeste proceeded to plop herself down at the table and in a sickeningly singsong voice proclaimed it to be, "Lunch time!"

Merlin, Gaius, and Guinevere followed her lead and all sat at the table in silence. The food was like nothing Merlin had ever tasted before; the first course was a spinach soup so creamy and decadent that it slid down his throat with ease, then came a tangy salad dotted with unfamiliar red fruits, and later a platter of roast beef that melted in his mouth. But to Merlin, it all tasted like sawdust. He was too worried about the possible repercussions of his earlier actions to enjoy the meal in front of him. Desert was a chocolate cake so rich that Merlin's fork could stick straight up out of it without tipping over.

Finally, Guinevere broke the awkward silence. "Merlin, have you tried the showers yet? They're amazing! I spent the whole half hour before lunch in mine. All the buttons make different things happen with the water and each one has a different scent. I mean… not that you need a shower or anything…" she blushed.

So that's what the glass box in the bathroom was! Merlin smiled. "No… um… I haven't tried that yet… maybe later."

Celeste jumped up from the table with a squeal of excitement. "Time to watch the reapings!"

Merlin's stomach rolled as his nerves returned. He didn't want to see the other children that were going into the arena with him, didn't want to get to know the people that would likely kill him or that he would have to murder in order to get out alive. Guinevere seemed to feel the same way, as she paled, setting her fork down with a clatter and leaving her cake untouched.

They followed Celeste to a set of armchairs to the left of the bookcase that faced a black screen similar to that used to show the Capitol propaganda at the beginning of the reaping each year. With the press of a button, the screen flickered to life, and Merlin found himself staring at the justice building of District one.

He watched with a sick pit of apprehension as the first tribute of the Hunger Games, a tall, regal-looking girl, was named, as she volunteered for the fourteen year-old that was picked originally. These were the people Merlin most feared; those who trained for and embraced the scant possibility of glory offered by the spectacle that was the Hunger Games. Cold-blooded killers raised from birth to maim and murder other tributes with a deadly efficiency.

Then Merlin saw something that made his blood run cold. He stifled a gasp as the male tribute was chosen and replaced by a volunteer, a confident, muscular boy with blond hair and strikingly blue eyes. It was him! The boy from his dream! Merlin sat up in his seat and strained to hear the voice of their escort as she announced their names. Morgana Du Bois and Arthur Pendragon. _Arthur_. The name seemed to strike a chord within Merlin, and again he heard the mysterious voice in his head. "You are two sides of the same coin."

Merlin stared off into space as the reapings of Districts two through ten were presented. What did all of this mean? Why did he feel this strange connection to the blond boy from District one?

When it came to District ten, Guinevere let out an unexplained gasp and suddenly looked as if she were on the verge of tears. Merlin turned his head in concern, but she had already schooled her expression into one of blank indifference.

Guinevere squeezed his wrist. "We're up next," she whispered.

Merlin pushed the thoughts of district one from his mind and returned his attention to the screen as he saw the familiar justice building of District eleven. He watched as Celeste called first Guinevere's name and then his, and was pleased to notice that his face was simply blank, not showing any fear or turmoil. Then came District twelve, the Capitol seal, and the reapings were over.

Gaius rose to his feet, took one look at the dazed looks on his tributes' faces, and suggested that they be left alone for a while. He and Celeste left the dining car, the door sliding shut behind them with a swish, and all was silent. Then Guinevere spoke up.

"Are you alright? I mean… you've been awfully quiet and you had a bit of a strange look on your face when I came in to lunch and all throughout the reapings… not that that's a bad thing…" she blushed.

Merlin offered a small smile. "Thanks for asking Guinevere, but I'm fine. Are you? Why did you gasp when that boy from ten was called up?"

"Gwen."

Merlin looked at the girl next to him in confusion. She reddened even further.

"I mean that you can call me Gwen, not Guinevere… that's what all my friends call me."

Merlin knew immediately that he would never be able to bring himself to kill this girl, even if his life depended on it, which it very well could. "I could certainly use a friend right now," he replied earnestly. Then he made a split-second decision. "Allies?"

Gwen looked at him in surprise that quickly turned to pleasure. "I would love to."

"So who was that boy?"

"My brother," Gwen whispered. Tears flooded her eyes and threatened to run down her cheeks, but she angrily brushed them away. "I just don't understand. He left home to find a new life, and we never heard from him again. We thought he was dead."

They sat in companionable silence for several moments.

"How did you know how to use the shower?" Merlin blurted, and it was his turn to blush.

Gwen laughed. "I used to work as a maidservant in the mayor's household, and I had seen the mayor's daughter use one before. I never got to try it until today though. What was your life like back at home?"

Merlin shrugged easily. "My life was pretty boring. My mum and I worked in a small orchard behind our house and my mum ran a small apothecary business on the side. We weren't too bad off though, and usually had enough to scrape by." He paused and looked down, noticing a skillfully crafted silver bracelet winding its way around Gwen's wrist, its strands coiled in an intricate pattern. "That's a beautiful bracelet," he stated.

Gwen looked followed his gaze to her wrist, suddenly looking sad. "Oh yes… thank you. My father made it for me. He's the village blacksmith, and it's my district token. What's yours?"

Merlin hadn't really thought about what his district token was, but he realized that he only had one thing from home that he could bring with him into the arena. He grinned and held up his neckerchief. "I suppose this is it."

At this moment, Gaius walked back in the room and smiled wistfully when he saw how well his tributes were getting along. He cleared his throat and they turned towards him. "I'm guessing you two are still full from lunch, so I told Celeste that we would all eat in our own rooms later. However, both of you should probably get to bed early. Tomorrow morning we will start learning strategy for the arena and in the afternoon we will arrive in the capitol."

Merlin nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm going to go try out that shower." He strode off toward his room and Gwen shook her head, still smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Once in his room, Merlin let out a sigh. What was he doing? Nothing made sense. Already he had gotten caught using magic and allied himself with a girl that had as little chance of winning the Games as he did. How was he going to even survive the bloodbath at this rate? Absently, Merlin stepped into the shower, gasping as the water automatically turned on, blasting his back with icy water. "Well that ought to clear anyone's head," he grumbled, quickly fumbling for a button on the wall that would make the water get warmer. He pressed the first one his hand came to and winced as jets of lavender-scented water pummeled his shoulders. He selected another and hopped up and down in pain as boiling and freezing water was dumped on him alternately. In desperation, he slammed his hand down on four buttons in the center of the wall and sighed in relief as he was met with a gentle spray of warm, lemon scented water.

Stepping out of the shower, he looked in the mirror. His torso was bright red, courtesy of the scalding water, and he glared accusingly at the shower, knowing that he had lost that battle. "Not a good way to start out the Hunger Games," he laughed to himself, wondering if he would ever be able to successfully find that same combination of buttons again. He doubted it.

He pulled back on the same clothes that he had selected earlier and realized that his stomach was rumbling again. Gaius had mentioned something about eating dinner in their rooms. Did he have to go to the dining car and bring food back? Or could he ask someone to bring him something?

Suddenly his eyes settled on a folded pamphlet on the desk across from the bed. He walked over and fingered it curiously. A menu. Grinning broadly, he slid it open and gasped at the endless options the piece of paper offered. Chocolate fondue, veal cutlets, plum stew, lobster tails in cream sauce; the possibilities were endless! Picking up the headset from the table and placing it over his ears, he heard a robotic voice ask him what he would like to order.

"Erm… I'll try the plum stew please."

Minutes later a knock on his door revealed a steaming silver platter waiting for him in the hallway. The savory stew melted in his mouth, the plums acting as a tart yet sweet accompaniment. Before he knew it, Merlin had devoured it all and was seriously considering licking the bowl clean when he realized that the stew came with a small bread roll on the side. Wiping up the last vestiges of his dinner with the flaky bread, Merlin groaned with contentment. "I don't think I'll ever be able to eat again... Until tomorrow at least."

Celeste leaned her head around the door and looked surprised to see him still awake. "Why are you still up? Leave those dishes in the hallway and go to bed. Tomorrow is a very important day!"

With that, she whirled out dramatically, and Merlin was surprised to find that his eyelids were drooping with exhaustion. "Maybe I should get to sleep," he admitted. He placed his used plate carefully outside in the hallway and fell back into bed, asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

The next morning, Merlin was woken by a sharp rapping at his door and Celeste's shrill, "Up, up, up you lazy boy! Today is a very big and important day."

Merlin groaned and rolled over. "Yeah, Celeste. Considering the fact that I will very likely die in a few days, every day is important, so I should be able to do what I want to do; sleep," he retorted under his breath. As he heard Celeste move across the hallway and repeat the same routine in Gwen's room, he slowly sat up and forced himself to stand up. He wasn't and had never been a morning person.

"Don't you dare throw pillows at me, you wretched girl!" Celeste screeched.

Merlin grinned. Clearly Gwen didn't take kindly to being woken up early either. Hair sticking up and rubbing his eyes wearily, Merlin shuffled reluctantly to the dining car and was met with a glare from Celeste and a "good morning" from Gaius. He plopped himself into the same chair as lunch the day before and began methodically smearing jam across a piece of toast. It was then that Gwen made her entrance, walking quickly over to the table and obviously hiding a smile as Celeste stared daggers at her. _If looks could kill,_ thought Merlin, _this woman would have the Hunger Games in the bag._

"Now that you're all here, we can begin to discuss your strategies for training, the interviews, and the arena." Gaius said.

Merlin groaned to himself, wishing more and more that he could just go back to bed or that he was still sleeping and this was all a bad dream.

Ignorant of Merlin's feeling of dread, Gaius continued. "First of all, you two need to decide if you would like to train together or separately- for example if you have a secret talent that you don't want the other knowing about." He sent a meaningful glance in Merlin's direction.

Unsure, Gwen and Merlin looked at eachother. "Umm… Well… we already agreed to be allies, so I guess we should train together. I don't have any secret talents." Gwen said uncertainly.

"Uh yeah, me neither." Merlin agreed hastily. "So we can train together."

"Alright," stated Gaius. "Let's get started then. What talents do you have that you could use in the arena?"

After a moment's hesitation, Merlin replied, "Well, I know a lot about medicine and edible plants from helping my mum in her apothecary shop. And I can run pretty fast when needed."

Gaius turned to Gwen. "And what about you?"

She blushed. "I don't really think that I have any useful talents for staying alive in the arena."

"What are you talking about?" exclaimed Merlin. "Your father is the village blacksmith, remember? I'm sure you know loads about knives and hammers and that kind of thing."

Gwen gave a small smile. "I guess. So then we'd be a great team. I'll do the weapon stuff and you can do the food and healing things in the arena."

Merlin returned the smile. "Of course."

Merlin spent the rest of the morning exploring the train, and, after finding the window stretching across the back wall of the caboose, watching the districts speed by and be left behind the swiftly moving train. At noon, the view went black as darkness enveloped the train. They had entered the tunnel through the mountains to the Capitol.

Soon after, the doors swished open to admit Gwen, who joined him at the window seat. "Are you ready?" she asked simply.

Merlin grimaced. "Never."

She nodded, and they rode in silence until the darkness was replaced with blinding sunlight and a spectacular view across the lake at the Capitol. They let out a collective gasp. The ivory-white buildings towered over the train, gleaming in the sunlight, and as they got nearer, Merlin saw that people of every size, shape, and remarkably, color filled the streets. Upon spotting the train, they cheered and waved excitedly, and Merlin winced, but tentatively waved back. So everyone from the Capitol did look like a walking, talking circus act. But these were the people that could keep him alive in the arena through sponsorships, so acknowledging them was a necessary evil. Looking over at Gwen, he saw her doing the same thing. The train shuddered to a stop, and Celeste burst through the doors.

"It's go time, you two! Come on we've got a first impression to make, and then it's off to your stylists to get beautified for tonight's ceremonies!"

She strutted out excitedly, and Gwen and Merlin hurried to follow her. Gaius joined them as they stepped off the train, and they wound through the crowd, similar to that at the train station in District Eleven, but much bigger, louder, and more vibrant. Learning from that experience, Merlin looked straight ahead, focusing on simply putting one foot in front of the other and reaching the doors of the Training Center without tripping.

The silence was deafening as they stepped through the huge double doors of the Training Center. Celeste immediately hurried them down a long hallway to two doors marked with the number eleven and pushed them towards it, explaining that their stylists were waiting to dress them up for the parade that night. Merlin had just enough time to wish Gwen a hurried "good luck" before he was forced into an empty room except for a reclining chair and a mirror. It was blissfully silent for several minutes until what he supposed were his stylists burst into the room in a cloud of chatter and bright colors.

"Why you must be our tribute for this year! I'm Accalia," said one woman with bright pink hair and swirling green tattoos. She gestured to a short man with a purple Mohawk and diamond earrings. "This is Matta."

A third woman stood up from where she had been dumping several bags on the floor next to the chair. Merlin was startled to see that she seemed to have cat ears as well as light purple skin. "My name is Canadia. We're your prep team."

Merlin swallowed uncomfortably and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Merlin."

Accalia seemed to take his proffered handshake as a signal that he was ready to be made over. She pulled him with surprising strength over to the chair and pushed him into it. The three stylists circled him, looking him over, and Merlin crossed his arms uneasily.

"We'll need a full body wax, steam bath, and complete hair restyling." Accalia asserted.

Merlin clasped his hand to his head in alarm and was about to protest that he liked his hair just fine, thank you very much, when Matta spoke up.

"No, we don't have time to do the hair. Just look at the state of him. And we must get rid of that ugly rag around his neck."

Merlin didn't know whether to be relieved or offended, but he did want to make sure he kept his neckerchief. "This is my district token," he said defensively.

Accalia raised her eyebrows in surprise, but did not argue. She grabbed his neckerchief and stuffed it into her apron pocket and swiveled the chair to face her. "Time to get started. You are going to love your outfit. We decided to go with a farming theme this year."

Merlin resisted the urge to inform her that they "went with a farming theme" every single year. He could only imagine what horror of an outfit they had in store for him. He could guess even without seeing it that it was likely not going to win them any sponsors or admirers in the crowd at the parade that night.

After hours of poking, prodding, ripping, and overall agony for Merlin, he was almost relieved when the prep team announced that he was now worthy to go see the stylist. That was until he saw what he was to be wearing for the parade. A hideous hat with a plume of green and blue feathers went with a long, red trench coat with huge golden buttons that had wheat emblazoned on them. His stylist, named Beta, told him excitedly that he was supposed to resemble a rooster, and asked him how great it looked. He decided not to tell her that they didn't have roosters in District eleven, and told her in a strangled voice that it looked great.

It got even worse when Merlin realized he had to wear makeup. Wincing the whole time, Beta liberally applied golden eyeliner and drew wheat all over his face and hands. Wishing for the millionth time that day that he could just go back to bed and pretend that none of this happened, Merlin was handed a scythe and told to go wait in the lobby for the chariot. He found Gwen in the hallway, looking almost as ridiculous as he did. Her stylists had made her into an apple tree, and the leaves on her hat were falling off every time she moved. For a moment they just stared at eachother, then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. Every time he tried to get control of himself and stop laughing, he would look at the expression on Gwen's face and bust into fresh mirth. He laughed until his stomach ached and tears ran down his face, and wiping them away, he saw with satisfaction that he had been able to take off most of the golden eyeliner with the moisture and his sleeve.

With Gwen still giggling, they set off down the hallway to the lobby, where the other tributes were also waiting for their chariots. Looking around in awe, Merlin saw to his disappointment that most of the other district costumes looked amazing. District seven were the usual trees and District ten were dressed as cows, but District two wore armor that seemed to have flames running along the golden plates, and District four's outfits looked like they were sewn from sea foam. Even District twelve, who were usually coal miners, were dressed in a nice, normal-looking black suit and red tie for the boy and a red dress for the girl.

Then District one walked in; Arthur with chainmail and a regal red cape with the dragon crest from Merlin's dream and Morgana wore a flowing purple silk dress that made her resemble a queen. Both wore hammered gold circlets on their brows and carried themselves with as much poise as real royalty. Merlin took a step back as he was barraged with another wave of memories. _The silhouette of a dragon against the pearly white moon… a castle wreathed in dancing flames… a lake with an island and a tower in the center. _The same voice from his dream murmured, "Emrys, this is your destiny."

Then it was gone, as suddenly as it came. Gwen looked at him curiously, but then they were being called to their chariots, and the regal District one rode out to thunderous cheers from the crowd. Gwen took Merlin's hand as they stepped into the chariots and squeezed it nervously as it lurched forward into line with the others. From the sounds the crowd was making, Districts one and two were the overwhelming crowd favorites. Merlin wondered halfheartedly what kind of response their appearance would garner. Would they be ignored? Or maybe pelted with rotten fruit?

As District Ten rolled out, Gwen squeezed Merlin's hand so hard that he felt like it was going to fall off. He managed a weak smile in her direction. "It'll be fine. Hopefully they just won't pay us much attention and we'll get through it. Then we'll go find your brother, alright?"

She returned the gesture in a twisting of her lips that never reached the fear in her eyes. "Alright."

The chariot lurched into motion and Merlin clutched at the metallic sides with white-knuckled fingers so as not to fall out. Knowing his own clumsiness, this was a very real possibility. As they exited the relative safety of the Training Center, the noise and light hit Merlin like a physical blow and his grip on the sides of the chariot intensified. It took all his willpower not to curl up in a ball with his hands over his ears and his eyes screwed tightly shut. But he had to do it. He and Gwen looked enough like freaks; he didn't need to be acting like one to discourage the few sponsors they may have a chance of getting.

Merlin chanced a quick glance at Gwen and found to his surprise that she was waving happily to the crowd, blowing kisses and generously smiling at anyone who looked their way. Not that many people were. Luckily the general attention of the audience still seemed to be on the career districts, although Merlin could swear he heard a few snickers aimed in their direction. Making a forced effort to smile and wave a bit, the ride finally came to an end as they pulled into the main square.

The cheers finally died down as President Snow stepped out onto the balcony of the Presidential Mansion and raised his hand for silence. The President was a man of average height with a beard as white as his name signified and eyes as dead and colorless as a snake's. Needless to say, Merlin did not like him very much.

"People of Panem! Tonight we gather together to celebrate the beginning of the sixty-first Hunger Games and another year of peace and prosperity." Merlin snorted quietly in derision.

He continued. "Tributes, we welcome you and laud you all for your courage and skill in combat. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Then it was over. The chariots were wheeled back to the Training Center and unloaded without any more pomp or ceremony. Celeste and their stylists and prep teams came over, chatting loudly and congratulating them, lying through their teeth and telling them how great they looked. But neither Merlin nor Gwen were listening. Merlin was gazing at the pair from District one, deep in thought, and Gwen was scanning the crowd for her brother. Their eyes met; he was standing in a corner away from the crowd, beckoning her over. Gwen grabbed Merlin's wrist, startling him out of his reverie.

"Merlin! My brother is over there. Let's go!"

They wound their way through the crowd, away from their own entourage and toward the dark-skinned boy in the corner. Gwen flung herself at him in a ferocious hug, and he reciprocated cautiously. "We need to talk… later when we won't be disturbed," he murmured, sending a meaningful look in Merlin's direction.

Gwen blushed, remembering Merlin was still standing awkwardly behind her. "Oh! This is Merlin. We're allies."

Her brother's face brightened. "Well met, Merlin. My name's Elyan." He shook Merlin's hand enthusiastically. Some of the other tributes were beginning to look curiously in their direction.

"Meet me on the roof at ten tonight," he added and walked away.

Gwen and Merlin walked back to rejoin their stylists, ignoring the stares of the other tributes and walked over to the elevator, where they joined a tall blond girl and a curly-haired boy from District six. Having never ridden in an elevator before, Merlin was extremely surprised when the doors closed and his stomach seemed to drop as they quickly began to rise. Upon reaching their floor, Gaius was waiting to meet them, and their stylists finally left, leaving the rooms in blessed quiet.

They all sat down to a dinner even more extravagant than that on the train, but both Gwen and Merlin found it hard to concentrate on the meal and Gwen kept turning to glance at the clock on the wall behind her. When the last course of lemon pie had been devoured, they hurriedly excused themselves to go to their separate rooms to shower and change.

Merlin took the fastest shower in the history of mankind, as he was unable to change the water temperature from its icy cold tendency, and pulled on another blue shirt similar to the one he wore on the train. The clock only read 9:35.

A quiet knock on his door revealed a very nervous Gaius with a large item in his arms wrapped in brown paper. "May I have a moment?" he asked quietly.

"Of course!" Merlin replied, pulling the door open and shutting it behind them. "What is it?"

Gaius looked around furtively, as if to make sure that no one was peeping through the eleventh-story window or hiding in Merlin's closet. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he placed the object on Merlin's bed and began to unwrap it, revealing an old, peeling book.

A strange feeling of power rushed through Merlin, and he felt the magic flow through his blood, making his hair stand on end and his fingertips tingle. His eyes briefly gleamed gold, and Gaius looked inquisitively at him.

"A magic book!" exclaimed Merlin in awe. "Where did you find this?"

Gaius looked around again fearfully. "It used to belong to me in the days before the Great Purge, before magic was outlawed. I used to practice magic."

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"It was my hope that you could use this book to help you and Gwen survive in the games; to teach you new spells and maybe help you keep your magic hidden. Use it wisely. I must go now, but good luck." And Gaius was gone.

Merlin spent the next twenty minutes absorbed in the depths of his new book, reading about hemlock, and griffins, and aging spells until Gwen's knock at his door interrupted him,

"Merlin, we need to go meet Elyan now. It's almost ten. Are you ready?"

"Coming!" Merlin yelled, frantically scanning the room for anywhere he could hide the magic book. Suddenly and idea struck him. "_Ahebban_." He muttered, and the floorboard in the corner lifted silently. Hastily shoving the volume under the panel and pushing it shut, he dusted himself off and rushed to meet Gwen outside.

Once in the elevator, they easily found the button for the roof, and arrived in seconds. The cool evening breeze blew refreshingly over them as they examined their surroundings. A garden in the corner was filled with the shadowy silhouettes of plants and a wind chime twinkled merrily in the wind. Overall, Merlin thought that it would be somewhere he wouldn't mind spending a nice relaxing afternoon had circumstances been different.

Something moved in the shadows and Merlin tensed reflexively, magic at the ready. Elyan stepped out into the pool of light thrown by the lone lantern on the roof, and both Merlin and Gwen relaxed.

"What were you doing?" exclaimed Gwen.

Elyan smiled sheepishly. "Just testing the force field. I guess they really don't want us ruining their show by dying before they want us to."

Merlin spotted several items scattered across the patio as a result of Elyan experiments; a shoe, some pebbles, and what looked suspiciously like the remains of a chocolate cake.

Gwen's eyes gleamed dangerously. "You weren't actually thinking of throwing yourself against that were you? Because if you were…"

"Of course I wasn't!" Elyan replied hastily. "Why would I do that?"

Gwen maintained her expression of disbelief and exasperation, but decided to continue. "So, Elyan. You have a lot of explaining to do… what happened to you after you left District eleven?"

"As you know, I intended to find a job in transportation in District six, but the Capitol supposedly 'messed up' my paperwork and transcripts, so I ended up as a blacksmith in District ten shoeing horses and stuff… that's about it really."

Anger flickered across Gwen's kind face. "How could you leave us like that? We thought you died! You never even wrote or called or anything!" She hissed.

Elyan looked regretfully at the ground. "I tried, I really did. They wouldn't let me contact you because they see any communication between the districts as rebellious behavior."

Gwen's expression softened and she surprised both boys by hugging Elyan fiercely. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"For now," Elyan replied wryly. "In a few days though… It's anyone's guess."

"Don't say that!" Gwen said forcefully. She looked at the two boys; Merlin tall, thin, but with a mysterious aura of strength and her muscular, physically powerful brother. She knew she would trust both with her life. "Allies?"

Merlin nodded without hesitation. For some reason he liked Elyan already, and if Gwen trusted him, then he believed he could too.

Elyan held out his hand toward Merlin and they shook solemnly. "Allies."

"It's getting really late. We should probably rest for training tomorrow," Gwen advised.

"See you there," added Merlin.

As Merlin reentered his room, the now-familiar voice in his head announced, "The friendships that bind those of the roundtable together have begun to form. But take heed, young warlock, for not all are what they seem.


	4. Chapter 4

_Arthur stood from his seat at the large, circular table and the room fell silent. Looking around, Merlin spotted several other tributes, including Elyan, Gwen, and the boys from Two and Four. "I want to build a kingdom that is fair and just," Arthur stated, and his words resonated throughout the hall. "One where everyone is respected, regardless of who they are and where they come from. A kingdom where no one has to live in fear of the government and children are not sacrificed in retribution for the actions of their ancestors. A place where everyone can live free and where justice reigns." _

Merlin awoke, the sounds of cheering still ringing in his ears. Puzzled by his recurring dreams involving the male tribute from District one as a prominent figure, he sat up and glanced at the clock. Training started in half an hour! Obviously Celeste had given up trying to get him and Gwen up on time after yesterday's incident. Pushing his dream to the back of his mind, he hurriedly pulled on the same outfit as the night before and splashed water on his face before rushing to the dining room.

Gaius and Gwen were already sitting at the table, but Celeste was nowhere to be found. Shrugging, Merlin grabbed a bowl and began helping himself to porridge and pouring copious amounts of honey on top. Gwen wrinkled her nose in disgust and Gaius raised his eyebrows, but Merlin continued obliviously, now dumping unfamiliar purple berries on top. He sat down and began to devour it. Only when he had neared the bottom of his bowl did he glance up at Gwen and Gaius, who were still gazing at him with expressions of slight disbelief and disgust.

"What?" he asked, confused.

Gaius shook his head. "Never mind. We were just about to discuss your strategy for training the next couple of days. Now, I want the two of you to stick together and visit as many stations as possible because you never know what the arena might throw at you. Don't ignore the survival stations. Those are just as important if not more so than learning to fight. Make some allies- it never hurts to have a little extra protection. But stay away from the career districts in general unless there is a clear outlier. Most importantly, try not to make any enemies, and if you have an idea of what you're going to do for the gamemakers in your private sessions, don't show off too much at that station. Got it?"

Gwen and Merlin looked slightly dazed, but nodded slowly.

"Alright then. If the two of you are ready, we should head down to the Training Center now so that we're a couple minutes early."

They stepped into the elevator and Gaius turned to them again. "What are you two thinking about ally-wise? Do you want to go as a solo district pair, or do you have anyone else already in mind?"

"Actually, we've already made an alliance with my brother Elyan from District ten," announced Gwen.

Gaius blinked in surprise. "Oh. Okay then…"

They were interrupted by a ding from the elevator, signaling the immanent opening of the doors, and they were joined by the pair from District seven. They looked eachother over silently. The girl was young, maybe twelve or thirteen, and the boy was a couple years older, but he looked extremely strong and well-built in contrast to the girl's slight frame. Soon they had arrived at the ground floor, and the two districts stepped silently out of the elevator without another glance in each other's direction.

Merlin leaned over toward Gaius. "Who were they?"

"I believe that was Lancelot and Helen from District seven. Poor girl. She's the youngest to be reaped this year." He didn't voice it out loud, but both Gwen and Merlin knew that he was wishing her a quick and painless death. Young tributes rarely made it past the bloodbath at the beginning of the Games, and the youngest victor to date had been fourteen. Gaius gave Helen one last sad look, wished Gwen and Merlin good luck, and headed back to the elevator.

Arthur and Morgana were the last to arrive, and a dark-skinned woman with silver tattoos named Atala began giving them instructions.

"You have two days to train both in weapon and survival skills using the stations in this room. On the third day, you will each have a private session with the gamemakers, where you will receive a score that will be displayed for the benefit of your potential sponsors. No fighting between tributes will be permitted. If you would like to stage a one on one battle, trainers will be available for you to do so. Any questions?"

The vaulted room echoed her question but the tributes remained quiet.

"Alright then, let's begin!"

The Career Districts headed immediately to the weapon stations, laughing loudly and chatting amongst themselves. Merlin watched uneasily as several of then picked up enormous broadswords and began hacking dummies to pieces as if it were as easy as cutting through butter. He gulped.

Elyan headed towards Merlin and Gwen and nodded in greeting. "So what's the plan? Do we want to split up?"

"Gaius told Merlin and I to stick together, but we could certainly cover more ground if we spent the morning at different stations and then met up at lunch to share what we learned," Said Gwen thoughtfully.

"Sounds good," replied Merlin. "I'll start over at the knot-tying station."

He watched as Elyan headed over to the obstacle course and Gwen went to try camouflage, then turned toward his own station. The trainer looked bored out of their mind, and greeted him enthusiastically, obviously not used to anyone visiting such an unpopular station. He quickly showed Merlin how to tie several types of knots, which Merlin found to his surprise that he was fairly good at. They quickly moved on to nooses, traps, and nets that could be used to trap anything from small animals to not-so-small tributes. Feeling confident in his knot tying skills, Merlin decided to move on, and the trainer gave him a small length of rope to practice with and looked disappointed as he left.

Next, although he already knew quite a bit about edible plants, Merlin meandered over to that station to review. He glanced at the samples on display and could recognize most of them immediately without assistance, so the trainer put him at a computer with some kind of automated test, which he did extremely well on, only missing two out of fifty.

Glancing at the clock, Merlin realized he only had half an hour before lunch break, so he decided to try his hand at the climbing wall, which he was already pretty sure he would be terrible at.

Twenty minutes later, a very sweaty and slightly shaky Merlin was gratefully back on solid ground, and decided to go join Gwen where she was practicing at the spear station. She was doing alright, hitting the target most of the time, and Merlin decided to give it a go. The spear hit the ground several yards in front of the target with a heavy thunk. Gwen stifled a giggle, and he looked at her indignantly. He could hit the bull's eye every time if he were to throw it with magic.

The buzzer went off for lunch, and the tributes streamed into the cafeteria eagerly. Merlin helped himself to chicken soup and rice and sat down at a table in the corner. Soon Elyan joined him, then Gwen.

"So what did you guys learn?" he asked curiously.

Elyan started off. "I did the obstacle course a couple of times, then I visited the sword-fighting station, but I think that's what I'm going to do for the gamemakers, so I didn't stay there long. Before lunch, I spent a long time at the fishing station. So now I know how to make a fishhook out of pretty much everything. I can show you guys how later."

"Well I went to the camouflage station first, and the trainer tried to show me how to paint myself to blend in with the trees and mud, but I was pretty horrible at that, so I went to the archery station for a bit, then the spear station. The spears were okay, but bottom line is I think I'll stick to knives and swords. What about you, Merlin?"

"Umm… I went to the knot-tying station and learned lots of stuff about traps and nooses. I have some rope I can teach you with from the trainer. Then I went to the edible plants station to review, and then to the climbing wall." Merlin blushed. "I think I'll try to avoid climbing cliff faces in the Games if at all possible."

"Then he joined me at the spear station for a bit," finished Gwen.

They finished their respective lunches in silence, and Merlin pulled out his bit of rope to teach Elyan and Gwen basic knots until the buzzer rang again, signaling that lunch was over.

Reentering the training area, Merlin walked over to try his luck at the fire-starting and cooking station. The trainer handed him a flint and a couple of rocks and instructed him to try using each to create a spark to start a fire, then moved off to help the pair from District three, who had lit half of the station on fire.

Merlin struggled for several minutes, striking the rocks together until his fingers were numb to no avail. He snorted to himself. This was stupid. Why was he wasting his time with a flint and stones if he could light a fire with a simple spell? He glanced around, but the other tributes were busy at their respective activities and the trainer and the others at his station were still busy frantically dumping buckets of water on the flames on the other side of the area.

Turning his back on the rest of the room and bending over the pieces of wood he was to set alight, he muttered, "_Hlisa." _The logs were immediately set aflame, and the instructor, now covered in soot and ashes, moved back over to where Merlin sat. She nodded in approval and handed him a pot and a knife as well as some vegetables so that Merlin could begin to prepare a simple meal.

However terrible he was at lighting a fire naturally, Merlin found that he really enjoyed cooking. He had successfully made a delicious-smelling vegetable soup that was steaming gently, and he had gone over to the trainer to ask for a bowl to try it in when he was interrupted by raucous laughter and the thud of knives hitting a target.

Merlin turned, his eyes widening in surprise and disgust. Arthur, surrounded by a group of several other boys who looked on with a mixture of amusement and dislike, had obviously grown bored by training and had started throwing knives at a target. But the target was being held by none other than young Helen, and he was demanding that she run back and forth, saying that he wanted a moving target. Lancelot looked on in helpless rage, and it was in that moment that Merlin decided that he had to do something.

"Hang on!" Helen yelped as a knife slammed into the edge of the target by her hand.

"Don't stop!" ordered Arthur, grinning. Helen took several steps back in fear. "Come on! Run!"

Helen's arms finally gave out, and the heavy target rolled across the floor to land by Merlin's feet. He put a foot on it and turned to Arthur, who was staring at him with thinly-veiled contempt.

"Hey, come on, that's enough," Merlin stated calmly, ignoring Arthur's murderous gaze. Morgana gave Merlin a small smile and smirked at Arthur.

"What!?" exclaimed Arthur, outraged.

"You've had your fun, my friend."

"Do I know you?" Arthur asked in confusion.

"Err, I'm Merlin," Merlin replied, holding out his hand.

Arthur ignored Merlin's outstretched hand and stared at him in disbelief. "So I don't know you."

"No," said Merlin quietly, withdrawing his hand.

"Yet you called me friend," Arthur spat in distaste.

"That was my mistake."

"Yes, I think so."

"Yeah. I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass," Merlin retorted, smiling. He turned to walk away.

"Or I one who could be so stupid," Arthur snorted, and Merlin stopped walking. "Tell me, Merlin. Do you know how to walk on your knees?"

"No."

"Would you like me to help you?" asked Arthur with fake cheer.

"I wouldn't if I were you," answered Merlin, his voice dangerously quiet.

Arthur laughed loudly. "Why? What could a shrimp like you do to me? I saw you at the spear station earlier, you know."

"You have no idea."

Grinning even wider, Arthur motioned for Merlin to go ahead. "Be my guest! Come on! Come on!"

Merlin grimaced, stealing a quick glance at the window behind which the gamemakers were looking down at the scene in interest. He couldn't use magic. Not here in front of everyone. Steeling himself for the embarrassment he knew was to come, he took a wild swing at Arthur, who twisted his arm behind his back as easily as swatting a fly. The surrounding tributes groaned, and Merlin saw Gwen wince through a haze of pain. He gritted his teeth, but resolved not to show Arthur how much it hurt.

Arthur leaned over and muttered in Merlin's ear. "You know, in District one I could have you arrested for that."

Merlin blinked away tears of pain. "Who do you think you are, the king?"

"No, I'm his son. My father is the mayor and victor Uther Pendragon of District one, vanquisher of magic and idiots like you. He forced Merlin to his knees with a simple swipe at the back of his legs and strode away laughing.

His face burning with suppressed anger and embarrassment, Merlin walked quickly, head down, back over to his soup. He scowled. It was cold now, and completely unappetizing. Besides, he wasn't hungry anymore anyway. Discarding the lump of vegetables, he stormed from the station and back to the elevator, ignoring the protests of the trainers as he pressed the button to go to the roof. The Arthur from his dreams was definitely not the same one that he had the misfortune of meeting today at training. He seethed silently. Why the hell would he want to share a destiny with or be the other side of a coin with such a stupid, arrogant **prat**?"

The doors swung open, and Merlin breathed the fresh, cool air in deeply. He let out a frustrated yell and an empty pot in the garden shattered. He sank to the ground, drained. What seemed like hours later, he heard footsteps behind him as someone sat down next to him. It was Gaius.

"You never cease to amaze me! The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down, and what do you do? You behave like an idiot!"

Merlin hung his head dejectedly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to. You just put yourself in more danger than you ever needed to be in. Now you'll be first on Arthur's kill list, and guess who'll be next? Your allies!"

Merlin sat in silence and the old man sighed. "Dinner is in an hour. Please be there."

As the elevator doors shut behind Gaius, new thoughts rushed through Merlin's head. What had he done? He was only trying to stand up for someone who was being harried by someone stronger than her, and now he'd probably made automatic enemies for not only himself, but also for Helen and his friends.

The elevator doors slid open again and Merlin whirled around, a sharp dismissal on the tip of his tongue, when he saw it was Gwen. He blinked in surprise as she helped him to his feet.

"For all it's worth, I thought it was really brave of you to stand up to him."

Merlin shook his head. "It was stupid. All I did is make sure that you, Elyan, and I are on the top of Arthur's kill list along with that poor girl."

"Nonsense," replied Gwen. "All it means is that we'll have to face him sooner rather than later. And we would have had to eventually anyway. Besides, you should have seen how the other tributes watched you. You may have earned yourself one enemy, but I think you earned more than a few friends in that encounter- including Morgana and Lancelot. I'm glad you decided to walk away though. You weren't going to beat him alone."

Merlin snorted. "Oh, I can beat him."

Gwen looked sideways at him doubtfully, but not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Umm… You think? Because you don't look like one of those big muscle-y kind of fellows."

"Thanks," Merlin answered sarcastically, slightly wounded.

Gwen blushed. "No! No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look. It's just, erm… Arthur seems like one of those real rough, tough, brute force kind of guys, and well…"

"What?"

"You don't look like that."

A slight smile crossed Merlin's lips, and he whispered, "I'm in disguise."

Gwen laughed. "Come on, Merlin. Let's go to dinner."

**A/N: I have about seven more chapters written, but I should be getting to sleep, so I will post them tomorrow. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was a quiet affair, and Gwen excused herself early, saying that she was tired from training. Merlin looked at Gaius. "I know you're still angry with me."

Gaius sighed. "No, not angry. You did the right thing. I suppose I'm just scared for you. You just made a powerful enemy." He casually backhanded a glass of water off the table, and Merlin reacted immediately, his eyes flashing, to stop the glass in midair. Gaius plucked the glass from where it hung suspended and Merlin let the water droplets fall to the floor.

"I assume your mother knew about your… talents," said Gaius slowly.

"You know her?"

"We worked in the same apothecary shop before I was reaped. Hunith is her name, right?"

"Yes," replied Merlin.

"What did she say to you about your gifts?"

"That I was special."

Gaius nodded. "You are special, alright. You have magic the likes of which I have never seen before.

"What do you mean?"

Gaius paused, unsure how to explain himself. "Well… magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What I've seen you do was… elemental, instinctive. You have the most natural talent of anyone I have ever met."

Merlin snorted. "Natural talent?" he scoffed.

"Yes, I truly believe you're something special, which is why I've decided to help you in any way I can. Hence why I gave you that book."

Merlin sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, then asked, "Gaius, is it normal for people with magic to have dreams about people they haven't met yet?"

Gaius looked at him gravely. "In some cases, those with a very high magical aptitude have been able to see the future in their dreams, yes. In other cases, the same individuals have been able to communicate with others in a dreamlike state. Have you experienced either of these?"

"Umm… well I've been having weird dreams and visions ever since the night before the Reaping, and somehow I knew I was going to be chosen."

"Describe them," Gaius demanded intently.

"Well… in the first one before the Reaping there was a blond boy with a sword… actually I think it might have been Arthur-"

"Whoa, wait! The Arthur that you got into a fight with today!?"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Err… yeah… And there was this voice telling me that we are two sides of the same coin and that our destinies are intertwined, and that we have to restore Albion and undo the wrongs committed by the Capitol or something."

Gaius sat dumbfounded. "What about the others?"

"During the Tribute Parade when Arthur and Morgana walked in, I had this weird almost flashback… or maybe flash-forward if it was the future… I saw a dragon flying in the night, a castle that was on fire, and some kind of a lake. Then the same voice told me this was my destiny and called me Emrys. Why did he call me that?"

Gaius's face paled as he spoke until it was devoid of all color. "Just go on," he said in a strangled voice. "What about last night?"

Merlin looked alarmed at Gaius's reaction, but continued on hurriedly. "I saw Arthur at a big, circular table with some of the other tributes saying that he wanted a land where everyone was free and safe from the Capitol or something along those lines."

Gaius looked as if he might faint. "Emrys…" he whispered.

Merlin stood up. "Um, Gaius? Are you okay? Do you need some water, or some time alone? Or…" He started backing away.

"Sit down, Merlin," Gaius said quickly. "This is important. Are you sure the voice called you Emrys?"

"Yes, completely certain."

"There was long ago, a great prophecy, given by the last dragon. It stated that in the time of mankind's greatest need, two individuals would rise above the chaos to restore Albion to its former glory and rid the land of the curse that is Panem. One individual was to be the rightful heir to the throne of Camelot- Arthur. And the other an individual possessing the more magic than has ever been seen on the face of this earth. The Druids, now an extinct race, called this second individual Emrys. Merlin, I believe this is you."

Merlin's head spun. He was nothing special other than the face that he could do magic. But that in of itself was enough to get him killed without hesitation. And Arthur… "But he's such a prat!" Merlin blurted.

Gaius plinked in bemusement. "You may be surprised. You see, the Pendragon family is the last of a dynasty that reigned over a golden age, the likes of which the world had never seen before and certainly has not seen since. After the rebellion, the Pendragons had been all but eradicated; Uther's father being the last surviving member of the family. The government allowed the family a high position in District one to appease both Uther's power-hungry father and the family's friends and allies, who resented the Capitol. Uther was born, grew up, was reaped for and won the Hunger Games, and fell desperately in love with a woman named Ygraine, Arthur's mother. The government had finally had enough with the threat of the Pendragon family's scant existence, and when Uther and Ygraine were married, the government ensured that Ygraine would never be able to have children. The couple were devastated and rightfully angry at the Capitol, so they turned to the Druids to help them have a child. Using a complex spell requiring the joint power of several sorcerers, Ygraine was able to get pregnant."

"Arthur was born of magic?" exclaimed Merlin.

"Yes, but for a life to be given, a life must be taken in return. Ygraine died in childbirth, but Arthur survived. The government was extremely alarmed that the magic users in Panem had been so willing to usurp their rulings and decisions. So to prevent further such actions, the government hunted down and killed the Druids and imposed the death penalty by public execution on anyone who used magic. Hence the Great Purge." A haunted expression flitted through the old man's eyes. "The government left Uther and Arthur alone for several reasons. First, Uther was a victor, a public figure, so they couldn't openly kill him without creating suspicion. Secondly, after the tragedy surrounding Arthur's birth, Uther also felt that the forces of magic had betrayed him. He became a valuable ally of the Capitol in the fight against magic, so they lost the desire to kill him or his son at the risk of losing a pawn in their game of power. So Arthur has been raised to hate magic; the cause of his existence."

Merlin sat in stunned silence. "Where do I fit in?" he asked a bit fearfully.

Gaius smiled gently, his face radiating hope for the future. "You, Emrys, are the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the face of this earth. Together, you and Arthur must rise against the Capitol and restore Albion to its former glory. Your destinies are intertwined; you are two sides of the same coin."

Merlin looked up in surprise. "Yeah. I've heard that before…" he murmured. "But how on earth am I supposed to do all that while I'm in the blasted Hunger Games?"

Gaius frowned at that. "I am afraid that I have no idea. But I do have a feeling that this year will be very different."

**A/N: Sorry, a lot of background info in this chapter, but the explanations were a necessary evil. And thank you so much to Caitlin51 for being the first reviewer and follower of my first Fanfiction on this site! XD**


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Merlin awoke peacefully, and was somewhat surprised. "I would have thought that you would have given me some more information now that I know sort-of what's going on here," he muttered to no one in particular. He rubbed his eyes wearily, wishing that he could close them again and forget the day ahead. Staying up into the early hours of the morning reading Gaius's magic book had been a serious mistake.

Forgoing a shower, Merlin threw on a clean shirt and stumbled out to breakfast. Today Celeste had actually decided to show up, looking decidedly bad-tempered, and because of this, Gaius and Gwen were being silent except for requesting that the other please pass the jam, staring at their plates. Merlin helped himself slowly to a piece of toast and his usual porridge, sitting down heavily.

"Are you alright, Merlin?" Gwen asked, noticing the shadowy bags under Merlin's eyes. "You look really tired."

"I'm fine," replied Merlin, giving her a small smile.

"Oh, by all means, don't worry about asking me how I'm doing this morning. I don't matter. I'm just the idiot spending hours on end trying to get you two sponsors who could maybe keep you incompetents alive!" Celeste exclaimed.

She stormed out of the room, taking a large bottle of vodka with her. Gaius, Gwen and Merlin looked at eachother. "Touchy," muttered Merlin, and all three burst out laughing.

"I don't think we'll be seeing her for a while," added Gwen, glancing meaningfully at the missing container of liquor.

Gaius shook his head. "Celeste is a bit… dramatic… at times. Don't worry. I have already found you several sponsors without any help from her. She resents the fact that she got assigned to one of the outer districts that doesn't get a lot of fame or recognition. It's not you personally. She's like this every year."

The elevator dinged, and Elyan stepped out hesitantly. "Umm… hello. Ready for training?"

Gwen and Merlin jumped up. "Yep! Bye Gaius!"

On the ride down, Elyan studiously avoided bringing up yesterday's incident, blathering about the rest of the things he had learned the afternoon before at training. Gwen joined in, and Merlin listened contentedly, dreading reaching the bottom floor.

They arrived too soon for his liking, and he took a deep breath before stepping out into the Training Center. Many tributes had already arrived and begun their training, and the three quickly joined them. Merlin scanned the room for somewhere he could be as unobtrusive as possible and hopefully avoid Arthur. He settled on the crossbow station, which was located around a slight corner in the back of the room. Neither the station nor the hiding spot proved fruitful, as he was mediocre at best with the bow and Arthur arrived twenty minutes later. He approached Merlin's station without any difficulty, and soon another crowd had gathered, hoping for another showdown like yesterday's.

"How's your knee-walking coming along?" Arthur sneered. Merlin resolved to ignore him, and concentrated on shooting another bolt at the target. When Arthur didn't show any signs of leaving, Merlin sighed and turned to try another station.

"Aww, don't run away!"

Seething, Merlin stopped. "From you?" He asked, putting as much sarcasm and venom in his reply as possible.

Arthur sighed in mock relief. "Thank god! I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."

"Look, I've told you you're an ass," Merlin retorted easily, turning to face him. He was done hiding from this prat, and if people thought his destiny was intertwined with this moron's, then they had a thing coming. "I just didn't realize you were a royal one. Oh, what are you going to do? Get your Daddy and your big, mean friends to protect you?"

Arthur laughed. "I could take you apart with one blow."

"I could take you apart with less than that," Merlin replied coolly.

"Are you sure?"

One of the onlooking tributes in the crowd yelled, "Come on then, fight!"

Arthur bent down, digging in the box of weapons and emerging with two maces. Merlin blanched. Arthur easily tossed one of them to the other boy, who fumbled with the spiked ball and dropped it on the floor, narrowly missing his foot. Several tributes snickered openly as he picked it up and Arthur swung his mace overhead as if it were no more than a length of lightweight cord. Merlin gulped, wondering not for the first time what he had gotten himself into. He twirled the chained ball experimentally, almost braining himself.

Catcalls rang out, and someone exclaimed, "That a way!"

Arthur dropped into a combat stance. "Come on, then. I'm warning you, I've been trained to kill since birth."

"Wow," replied Merlin, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. "And how long have you been training to be a prat?"

Arthur snorted. "You can't talk to me like that."

"I'm sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, _my lord_?"

Merlin gave a mock bow, and Arthur gave a fake grin, perturbed by Merlin's bravado. "Come on then, Merlin. Come on!"

He feinted, swinging the spiked ball at Merlin's head. Merlin felt panic welling up in his throat, silently begging one of the trainers to break this up before it could go any further. The chain and ball swung closer and closer, the air whipping by Merlin's face as he backed up desperately. His foot caught on the edge of the wrestling mat and he fell backward, grip on the mace loosening. He struggled to stand, caught in the bungee cord-fence surrounding the wrestling ring.

Arthur smirked, chuckling. "I've got you now!"

"Oh god," Merlin muttered to himself, and he cast about in a state of panic, looking for something, anything, to prevent the metal ball from coming in contact with his face. His gaze alighted on the rack of boxing gloves above them, and his eyes glowed gold. In midswing, Arthur's mace became somehow entangled in a mess of gloves, chains, and iron bars with a loud clang. With another flash of gold, Merlin moved the barrel of arrows a few centimeters to his right, and Arthur tripped. "Ow! Argh!"

Retreating as quickly as possible out of range of Arthur's weapon, Merlin came to the knot-tying station. He grinned mischievously, and with another flash, a length of rope stretched out in front of Arthur, sending him out of balance once again. "Do you want to give up?" Merlin inquired politely, cautiously swinging his mace.

"To you?" growled Arthur. He stood.

"Do you?" Merlin persisted. "Do you want to give up?"

Arthur backed up to regain his footing and tripped again over a carefully misplaced bucket. Merlin grinned in elation. He had won! But his smile faded as he noticed Atala and several other trainers forcing their way through the crowd. Arthur took advantage of Merlin's distraction to punch him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, clutching his abdomen.

"What is going on here? You know tributes are forbidden to fight against one-another!"

"The dark-haired one started it!" piped up one of Arthur's cronies.

Merlin could only groan in protest as two muscle-bound trainers took him by the arms and began to drag him to the door.

"Wait," Arthur said suddenly. "Let him go. He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one."

The trainers released Merlin with looks of mutual curiosity.

"There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."


	7. Chapter 7

Gaius cornered Merlin before he could sneak off to his rooms that evening after training. "I heard about what you did today," he said ominously.

Merlin sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable lecture. "And?" he asked impatiently.

"How could you be so foolish? Magic must be studied, mastered, and used for good! Not for idiotic pranks!"

Merlin stood his ground. "He needed to be taught a lesson. Besides, what is there to master? I could move objects like that before I could talk!"

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "I certainly hope you know what you are doing, because I for one have no idea. By now you should have learned how to control yourself!"

"I can," managed Merlin between gritted teeth. "But if I can't use magic, then what can I do? I may as well die as a nobody."

After dinner that night, Merlin and Gwen snuck up to the roof again to meet with Elyan to finish discussing training and begin to come up with a plan for the arena. The evening breeze of the night before had turned to a biting wind, and Merlin zipped up his jacket upon stepping out of the elevator. Elyan was already sitting on the bench, huddling against the wall in the futile hope of evading the cold.

"Hello Elyan," greeted Merlin.

Elyan grinned. "Hello mace-master." He had taken to calling the other boy that after his victory over Arthur that morning. Merlin grimaced.

"Don't call me that," he protested, joining Elyan on the bench.

"So," interjected Gwen, "What else did you learn in training so we can start planning for the arena?"

"Elyan and I spent most of the afternoon at the shelter-building station and then we visited the knife-throwing station. Bottom line is that I should avoid cliffs, knives, and Arthur in the Games." Merlin summarized.

"But if we can get you a mace, then we're good," laughed Elyan.

"I keep telling you, I was just lucky!" said Merlin, frustrated, and Elyan sent him a patronizing smile.

"Alright," interrupted Gwen. "Well I tried my hand at using a trident and an axe and then visited the first aid station. So now Merlin and I can both heal wounds should something happen to one of us. I have a spare bandage so we can teach Elyan the basics."

The three spent the next hour sharing medicinal skills and with Merlin showing them how to tie more complex knots and snares. The sky darkened from a velvety blue to deep black, and the stars began to shine, the moon emerging from behind a cloud. The temperature dropped even further, and Gwen began to shiver.

"Should we stop for now, Gwen?" Elyan asked, concerned.

"No, we can stay out a bit longer," she urged, looking at the two boys. "Any ideas what this year's arena is going to be like?"

Elyan shrugged, but Merlin looked thoughtful. "I tried to guess the vegetation of the arena from the plant life at the edible plants station, and there weren't any tundra plants, tropical stuff, or anything that could live in a desert, so I'm guessing that we won't have to worry about the extreme heat or cold."

"Well that certainly narrows it down a bit," replied Gwen earnestly.

"Yeah," acknowledged Elyan. "The arena aside, what are we going to do in the bloodbath? Are we going to participate or run?"

"Run," answered Merlin immediately, but Gwen looked unsure.

"When else are we going to get weapons and supplies? I think that if the supplies are spread out, then we should grab what we can, then run. If everything is the mouth of the cornucopia, then we can leave, but we aren't weak. We should arm ourselves in the beginning and prove ourselves as a force to be reckoned with. Especially if Arthur has a personal vendetta against us."

Slowly, Merlin and Elyan agreed, and they finally called it a night. Merlin knew that no amount of planning could really prepare you for the arena, but it certainly made him feel better to have a group of close friend/allies and a cohesive plan.


	8. Chapter 8

They sat in rows by district on hard metal benches that seemed to convey the discomfort every single tribute was feeling at that moment, whether outwardly visible or not. Some sat, pale and still, others twitched in their seats, resisting the urge to stand up and pace back and forth. Merlin studied the various reactions as he struggled to ignore his own clenching stomach. Even Arthur looked slightly less at ease than normal, his fists clenched and his lips set into a thin, determined line.

He was the first to be called, and he stood immediately, striding into the testing area like he owned the place. What seemed like an eternity passed, and then Morgana was called, walking in calmly. Hours passed, as Merlin watched all the other tributes before him leave the room, never to return. Some looked resigned, others looked ready to pass out. Elyan flashed a weak smile before turning to push through the doors. Merlin noticed that some tributes took much longer than others, and he decided that the shorter windows must have been occupied by those who were confident in their abilities and showed off their fighting skills. The others must have done things revolving around survival skills that would have taken longer.

As the girl from Elyan's district followed soon after him, Merlin realized with cold certainty that he was next. What was he going to do for the gamemakers? Cook? Maybe tie some knots? He snorted in silent laughter, and Gwen looked at him in concern.

His name echoed through the slowly emptying room, and Merlin squeezed Gwen's hand in reassurance before walking quickly to the double doors and pushing them open. The Training Center was unnaturally quiet as he walked in, the gamemakers sitting in a raised box at the far end of the room. He noticed to his annoyance that the vast majority of them were drunk, and several of the men had begun to sing a raucous drinking song, swaying dangerously.

He hurried over to the edible plants station, acing the test within several minutes, then quickly rigged a net and several traps, ensnaring the dummies meant for sword fighting. He looked up at the gamemakers, and saw to his annoyance that only two of them were nodding and taking notes. The rest of them had their attention captured by a large roast pig entering the room on a silver platter, a ruby-red apple glistening in its open mouth.

Anger rose up in Merlin's throat and he felt his magic growing with it. He was here to show them why he deserved a chance to survive in their sadistic Games, and here they were paying more attention to a dead pig than his efforts. He strode over to the archery station and grabbed up a longbow, selecting a single arrow. His eyes gleamed golden, he drew back the string, and released. A thud echoed through the hall along with the gasps of several gamemakers as the arrow punctured the apple and the force of the shot carried until it slammed into the wall behind them.

Merlin gave a mocking bow. "Thank you for your undivided attention," he managed sarcastically before dropping the bow on the floor and striding from the hall.

Once in the elevator, he sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. "What have I done?" he moaned. Now, not only would Arthur be after his blood, but the gamemakers as well. And their revenge was unavoidable; he couldn't hide from them in their own arena.

He stopped at their floor and headed straight to his rooms, not wanting to have to explain to Gaius what he had just done. He slammed the door and aimed a well-placed kick at the bed, which ended in him hopping up and down, clutching his foot in agony. He threw himself on the offending piece of furniture and propped open the magic book, trying to drown his misery in its text.

Thankfully, no one disturbed him until hours later, when a cautious knock on Merlin's door revealed Gwen. "It's time to see the scores from training," she explained, looking him up and down. "Oh, cheer up, Merlin. It couldn't have been that bad," she pleaded.

"Oh, but it was," Merlin answered bitterly. They walked out to the living room, and he sat on the couch next to Gwen, avoiding Gaius and Celeste's questioning gazes.

"So, tell us what you did in your private sessions with the gamemakers," asked Gaius gently.

Gwen glanced at Merlin and then obliged. "Well when I walked in, the gamemakers all looked kind of… startled. So I picked up a sword and hacked at some dummies and then threw some knives until they told me I could go."

Gaius looked at Merlin wearily. "Now what did you do, Merlin?"

Merlin looked Gaius in the eyes. "I shot an arrow at the gamemakers," he stated calmly. The room was silent, all its occupants staring in various states of astonishment.

"Do you have a death wish?" hissed Gaius. "First you pick a fight with the deadliest tribute in the Games, then you purposefully anger the gamemakers!?"

"Did you hit them?" Gwen asked anxiously.

"No, unfortunately not," Merlin replied dryly. "I came in and they were all drunk and paying me absolutely no attention. Then someone brought in a roast pig and they all turned away from me to go serve themselves, and I got angry and shot an arrow at the apple in the pig's mouth. It embedded itself in the back wall, and I guess that scared them all a bit."

Surprisingly, it was Celeste who spoke up for him. "Well I think that all the tributes deserve equal attention from the gamemakers," she stated.

Everyone gazed at her in surprise.

"What?" she snapped. "It's just what I think."

The television snapped lit up with the beginning of the program as Caesar Flickerman, the same man who had been hosting the Games for as long as Merlin could remember, bounced his way onstage. Every year, he had a different color scheme, and this year he had chosen gold, dying his hair and wearing a matching suit and tie. The effect was rather blinding, but Merlin thought wryly, rather appropriate.

After a short introduction, Caesar quickly turned to a screen behind him in order to commentate on the scores received by each tribute; a number between one and twelve. Twelve meant that you were seen as virtually invincible by the gamemakers, and one meant that you weren't expected to last five seconds in the Games and were hopelessly incompetent. Arthur's picture flashed onscreen first, and Merlin wondered absently where they got the pictures from. He could only guess how horrible his was going to look. Next to Arthur's name appeared the number eleven, and the room let out a collective gasp. Merlin knew Arthur was good, but not THAT good. What had he done to impress the gamemakers that much?

"And starting off with a bang, we have a rare eleven here for Mr. Pendragon. The gamemakers certainly must have liked what they saw there, huh? Now on to Ms. Du Bois…"

Arthur's image faded, and Morgana's replaced it. She received an eight, and was replaced by the pair from District two. The boy, who had long hair and a mischievous glint to his eyes was named Gwaine, and received a nine. His district partner only received a seven, which was a bit lower than normal for a Career Tribute. In fact, thinking back to training, Merlin couldn't recall ever seeing her hanging out with the big group of Careers. Maybe she had made her own alliance.

The pair from three got twin fives, and the pair from Four got a nine and an eight. After leaving the Career districts, Merlin was expecting the scores to drop dramatically, and was shocked when the male tribute, a seventeen-year old named Leon, received a ten. His partner received a six. The District six tributes received a seven and a five, Lancelot from Seven was scored with a nine, and poor Helen got a measly three. The tributes from eight broke the trend of unusually high scores with a six and a four, and Nine's tributes received a seven and a five. Elyan scored an eight, and Gwen squealed in delight, clapping her hands.

Dread filled Merlin, making him shiver involuntarily. What would the gamemakers give him as a score in revenge for his actions? Maybe he would be the first tribute in history to ever receive a one as their score. Elyan's district partner was given a three, and Merlin resisted the urge to run from the room. His picture appeared on the screen and he had just enough time to realize that he actually didn't look that terrible when the impossible happened. An eleven flashed next to his headshot, and the room was dead-silent, Caesar's voice the only noise to be heard.

"… Well that's something for the record books!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "Two elevens in one year!? And one of them from an outlying district too! I can't believe this!"

Merlin didn't hear anything else. Of course the gamemakers would make him seem like a threat and paint a target on his back. That way he would be sought out and killed immediately by the careers, who would want to eliminate him as a threat. Gwen came up onscreen with a six, but no one said a word. He felt numb. How could he make this any worse? He couldn't ally with Gwen and Elyan now without putting them in danger too. District twelve received a six and a four, and the screen went black.

No one said a word. Merlin turned to Gwen and Gaius. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Gwen, I understand if you don't want to be allies anymore. Now the careers will want to kill me even more, and I don't want to put you or Elyan in unnecessary danger."

Gwen smiled. "Don't be thick, Merlin. We made a deal, and we'll stick with it, through thick and thin."

Merlin smiled back in relief. At least he wouldn't have to face the gamemakers' wrath alone. Gaius spoke up.

"At least you taught the gamemakers a valuable lesson; don't get drunk during the Hunger Games or they risk getting shot in the head by an angry tribute with a bow and arrow."


	9. Chapter 9

_Servants bustled frantically through brightly-lit hallways as moans of excruciating pain echoed after them, urging them to move faster. A short, heavily-built woman shoved her way through the doorway. "Hot water for Ygraine!" she called, and the others made way. Merlin stood rooted to the spot as time passed unnaturally quickly, shadows lengthening and starlight replacing the sunlight streaming through the windows. He found he could move at last as the cries of agony weakened, replaced with the unmistakable wail of a newborn baby. Upon entering the room, Merlin immediately realized subconsciously where he was. This was the scene of Arthur's birth._

_A beautiful yet deathly pale woman sat regally in the curtained bed despite the lines of pain creasing her face and how her baby was grasped in her arms with the last strength she could muster. A man entered the room, seemingly unaware of Merlin's presence and ran to Ygraine's bedside, hugging her tightly. "It's all going to be okay now," he insisted, stroking the hair from his wife's sweaty forehead. Merlin supposed this man must be Uther, yet he could summon no anger; only pity._

_Ygraine clutched at Uther's wrist, staring into his eyes with unearthly intensity. "No, Uther. You don't understand. For a life to be given, one must be taken. That life is mine, and I willingly give it for my son. He will be a great man someday, and a great king. For he is the one the prophesy speaks of; I can feel it." She looked down at the infant, brushing a light kiss across his forehead; the one and only kiss he would ever receive from his mother. "His name is Arthur," she breathed. And Ygraine was gone._

_Uther stared in complete disbelief at his dead wife as his world shattered into a million pieces. "No!" He screamed, and his pain resounded throughout the city. The halls were deserted now, no servants dared to risk Uther's deadly grief and anger. He collapsed onto his wife's corpse, sobbing and begging her to come back, as if he could revive her with the rawness of his grief. He turned to look at his newborn son, sleeping soundly. The babe's eyes flickered open, and Uther's tears flooded anew as her saw HER eyes in his son's face. Uther roughly lifted Arthur from his mother's cold arms, a new desperate madness filling his gaze. "I will destroy those liars who took my love from me!" he vowed._

_The scene shifted, and Merlin was shocked to recognize his own home back in District eleven. He pushed open the familiar front door and recoiled at the crowd that filled the small space. "It's a boy!" a voice called out, and Merlin suffered a second stroke of realization. This time the dream was showing him his own birth. _

_Time jumped again, and his mother, looking much younger and more carefree, sat alone gazing at a bundle in her arms. At him. A golden glow filled the room, and his mother gasped. The golden semblance of a strange triangular symbol smoldered on the wall next to the chair in which she sat, and an orb of light floated over his newborn self._

_"__He is the other half of the coin, a child of prophesy. He possesses extraordinary gifts, and shall be the companion and savior of the once and future king. Together they will rise above all opposition to restore Albion."_

Merlin sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes wearily. These dreams provided nice insight, he supposed, but they really disrupted his sleep patterns. As he rose to dress, he remembered with a moan that today was supposed to be used to prepare for his interview the next night, and tomorrow he would have the exquisite pleasure of spending nearly ten hours with his stylist and prep team. Fabulous.

He was the first to the breakfast table for a change, and took his time helping himself to a large stack of toast, as there was no porridge this morning. He wondered to himself if Gwen and Gaius had requested the lack of his favorite breakfast food. They had looked rather disgusted at his recipe the last few mornings…

Gwen was then next to arrive, then Gaius and a disheveled Celeste, who was busy muttering something about vodka and late-night parties. Gwen and Merlin exchanged smirks.

Gaius stood and cleared his throat. "Ahem. So today we're going to be deciding what angles you two want to use in your interviews," Gaius announced. "Merlin, you will be first with me, and Gwen will be first with Celeste to work on… erm… presentation. After lunch we'll switch. Come on, Merlin. Let's go."

The room slowly emptied as Gaius led Merlin over to the couch. "Now your interview angle should be extremely easy to determine and won't require much acting on your part. I was thinking wither being mysterious or just being your usual bright, plucky self. With your training score, the sponsors are already practically lining up at my door to offer you whatever you need, so it's purely up to you which angle you choose. Whatever you think you can pull off and that the crowd will fall for."

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know, Gaius. You're the expert after all. And I don't really care what the Capitol thinks of me anyway. They'd all turn on me without a second thought if they knew the truth."

Gaius let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just humor me. Let's try both and see which one we like better. Pretend I'm Caesar Flickerman and answer whatever questions I throw at you to emulate the actual interview. Now Merlin, how do you like the Capitol?"


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin! How great to see you!" gushed Caesar, shaking his hand energetically. Merlin hoped he didn't notice his sweaty palms and fidgeted slightly, pulling at the sleeves of his suit jacket. "Thank you Caesar." He forced a smile.

They settled into their chairs, Merlin moving slowly and with the utmost care not to fall over and embarrass himself in front of the live and televised crowds who were busy analyzing his every move. His legs shook and sweat dripped down his collar as he took a deep breath.

"So Merlin, an eleven in training, huh? Any hints you can give us on what you have to offer in the arena?"

Had Caesar said something? The lights were bright, so bright. Blinding. His pulse raced and he gripped the arms of his chair, forcing an easy smile on his face as he guessed at what Caesar had just inquired. "I'd love to give you all the details, Caesar, but I'm afraid that's against the rules. Just know that I'm stronger than I look."

"I'm sure you are." Caesar nodded solemnly. "Tell me. How is the Capitol different from District Eleven?"

"The porridge here is excellent," Merlin quipped.

"The porridge!?" exclaimed Caesar. The crowd roared with laughter.

"Yeah," Merlin beamed, beginning to enjoy himself. "And the showers. But I've lost several battles with those already. Hopefully I won't have to fight any blasts of frigid water and lemon soap in the arena."

The crowd's roar turned into a resounding thunder as Caesar doubled over, chuckling heartily. Whether his helpless mirth was genuine or not, Merlin couldn't tell, but the crowd seemed to like his responses. He realized wryly that despite his decision to just be himself in the interviews, he had yet to give away information of any true worth about himself.

Apparently recovering from his bout of laughter, Caesar righted himself and the audience hushed. "Is this the latest fashion back in Eleven?" he asked, pointedly looking at Merlin's trademark red neckerchief.

Smiling, Merlin glanced down at the front of his jacket, where his stylists had grudgingly allowed him to wear his district token in place of a tie with his suit.

"Err… I suppose… It's my district token, and I wanted people to be able to recognize me in the arena when I'm not all dressed up like I am now."

"Well time's almost up. One last question. Why do you think you have a chance at winning these Games?"

"Trying to get me to spill my secrets again, are we Caesar?" he grinned impishly. "But I never said I thought I had a chance." His smile faded. "But there are people in that arena that I would gladly give my life to protect, and I won't go down without a fight. Mark my words when I say that hurting any of my friends in any way is a serious mistake. I have a destiny to fulfill, and I won't let anything stand in my way."

There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, an aura of mysterious power that had not previously shrouded his lanky figure. The crowd sat in hushed silence, shocked by the sudden change from the cheeky, happy-go-lucky boy that had stood before them moments earlier. The buzzer echoed throughout the silent hall and Merlin strode from the stage and back to his seat. Gwen squeezed his hand gratefully and he heaved a sigh of relief. It was over. Now all he had to worry about were the Games themselves.


	11. Chapter 11

And worry he did. He was no longer aware if hours or mere minutes had passed since the last time he had glanced at the clock, his heartbeat a steady thrum against his ribcage as his body unconsciously tried to make up for lost time, only too aware that this could be the last night of his life.

The more he told himself that he needed to sleep, the more awake he felt. He might not even live long enough to attempt to sleep in the arena. Breath catching in his throat, Merlin rolled restlessly onto his back, staring at the ceiling and recounting the interviews to distract himself.

Arthur had been his usual prattish self, his hair gleaming golden in the limelight. But the crowd had loved it, begging for more time when the buzzer had sounded. Morgana had gone the beautiful and mysterious route, and had played it well judging by the expressions on the faces of the young men in the attendance. Gwaine had been Merlin's favorite- he had spent the entirety of the District Two boy's interview laughing despite his nerves. There were several tributes, however, that sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Morgause; cold and calculating, Valiant; Sadistic and brutal despite his name, and Mordred. The boy from District Twelve had seemed nice enough if not more than a bit mysterious. Yet there was something about him that made Merlin's blood run cold.

He mentally ran through the interviews over and over until, exhausted, sleep finally found him.

_He was flying, soaring through the night sky, the air light and cool against his skin. Gliding over the ocean of treetops, he suddenly spotted a castle in the distance, the moonlight shining of gleaming white marble turrets and giving the fortress an ethereal glow. A rush of sensations enveloped him; fear, love, anger, grief, friendship. The scene flickered, and the castle was cloaked in flames, greedily licking their way up the walls. Another second and the destruction was gone. He tasted blood, bitter and metallic, smelled wildflowers from the meadow back home. Suddenly the sky brightened and Merlin found himself falling… falling…_

Merlin jerked his head back with a start, gripping the bedding like a lifeline. He took in several deep, shuddering breaths. He wasn't falling. He was safe in bed until tomorrow morning when he would be taken to the arena- taken to his death. Oh god, the Games… The clock read 3:05 AM.

Groaning in frustration, Merlin rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the mattress and stuffing the pillow over his head with both hands. This time he tried thinking about home and all the good times he had enjoyed with Will and his mother. The memories brought a smile to his face and tears to his eyes, and he slipped back into slumber with a slight smirk lifting the corners of his mouth as he recalled the time he and Will had hung Old Man Sweeney's underwear from the school flagpole. They had never been caught, and had spent weeks innocently telling anyone who would listen who they thought had hung the offending undergarments. His mother had of course seen right through it, and the two boys had received quite the verbal lashing. Finally, Merlin reachieved a state of fitful sleep until morning.

Sunrise brought Gaius to Merlin's door, knocking quietly before pushing the door open with a heavy heart. He knew firsthand the pure terror one experienced the night before the Games, and expected that Merlin hadn't been an exception. His charge was thrashing around the king-sized bed in the throes of a nightmare, groaning and crying out. Gaius rushed over to the boy's bedside, only to have the sheets fly magically through the air and land right on his head.

Working desperately to disentangle himself from the offending bedding, he called, "Merlin! Wake up!"

Shoving the blankets onto the floor, he grabbed Merlin by the arm and shook him roughly awake. The boy sat up groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was quite a sight to behold with his shirt pulled over to one shoulder and his hair standing on end. Gaius would have burst out laughing had he not suspected that something important had just happened.

"It was just a dream… just a dream…" mumbled Merlin to himself, struggling to rise. Gaius blocked his path.

"What did you see?" he insisted, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

Merlin shook his head. "It made no sense."

"Try explaining it anyway," Gaius pressed. "It could be important."

"I was running through the woods… but I don't know where I was…" began Merlin, "and I heard footsteps behind me, so I turned around. The entire forest behind me was on fire. And someone ran toward me, grabbed my arm, and told me to run… I think it might have actually been Arthur… Then I looked down and he had this… this mark… on the inside of his wrist. It looked like a druidic symbol to me, but I can't say for sure. Then the scene changed, and I saw a dagger flying directly toward Arthur and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop it. Right before it hit him, I woke up. Why did Arthur of all people have a magic-related symbol on his arm? And why do I feel like I've seen it before?" mused Merlin, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Gaius grabbed the magic book off the nightstand and leafed through it urgently. "We need to hurry to get you to the hovercraft on time," he said, motioning for Merlin to stand up. "Go change and tidy up while I look up druidic symbols in here."

Merlin hastily turned to the closet and pulled on a black shirt and pants before heading to the sink to splash icy water on his face. He returned to Gaius's side, who was busily scanning each page. Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the pages flipped, coming to a stop after several seconds. Gaius looked at the boy part in astonishment, part in annoyance before following Merlin's gaze down to the bottom of the page where a triangular spiral mark was displayed.

"The druidic Triskelion, pictured above, is often used to symbolize fate; the three protruding spirals representing the three states of time- past, present, and future," Gaius read aloud. "The Druidic prophecy of Albion mentions such a symbol in the third paragraph-"he stopped.

"What? What does it say?" demanded Merlin.

Gaius shook his head, tracing his index finger along the bottom of the page. "This is strange. The writing seems to just stop." He turned the page, only to find a new section on the uses of manticore venom.

Celeste pushed her head around the door, a nervous Gwen on her left. "What on earth are you doing? Come on, chop chop! We need to board the hovercraft. It's already two minutes after we were supposed to be there!"

Gaius reluctantly shut the book and the two of them hurried after her. They stepped into the elevator and sped up to the roof, Merlin realizing belatedly that this could be the last he ever saw of that building. His stomach clenched, and he numbly followed Celeste's receding back over to the hovercraft, a dark mass against the pale orange sky of dawn.

A strange sensation came over him, and he found he was frozen in place. Panic rose in his throat as his immobile body was lifted off the ground. Was it possible to die before even entering the arena? He rose into the bowels of the hovercraft and a woman with a syringe approached him, brandishing the needle dangerously.

"This is your tracker. With this the gamemakers can keep tabs on you in the arena," she explained before jabbing the point under the skin of his forearm and releasing. Merlin winced, but it didn't hurt as much as he was expecting it to. Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder and led him over to a seat as the windows darkened and the hovercraft took off.

Since the view out the windows had already been obstructed, Merlin realized the arena must be fairly close to the Capitol this year. They must also be starting the Games earlier than usual, for the tributes in past years only had to wake up early if the arena required several hours of air travel to get to. That way the show could start at noon, a convenient time for those in the Capitol who resented waking up before that time.

They were only ten minutes into the ride when Merlin's stomach dropped and they began their descent. They stepped out below the arena in what the Districts called the stockyard, for that's what it was. The place where tributes waited for the games to start, no better off than beasts awaiting slaughter.

Gaius herded Merlin into his launching room and shut the door, guiding him over to a chair by the breakfast table, which was laden with food of all kinds.

"Eat up!" Gaius urged. "You'll need your strength. And be sure to drink plenty of water. You never know where you'll find it in the arena."

Merlin sank down into the empty seat and stared listlessly at the food in front of him, his stomach churning at the thought of consuming any of it. "I can't eat now!" he protested.

"You must!" argued Gaius, shoving a spoon into his hand. Merlin handed it back.

"I don't think I'll be able to stomach anything."

Gaius pointed the spoon at Merlin's face threateningly. "Eat, or else I'll make you, and I don't think you'll enjoy that."

The ghost of a smile crossed Merlin's face. "Are you threatening me with a spoon?"

Gaius grinned and busied himself spooning a generous helping of porridge into a bowl. "Here, since you seem to love the porridge so much, eat this. Make that revolting recipe if you must, but please eat."

Merlin obliged, pouring his usual syrup and berries on top as the older man turned away in mock disgust. The porridge tasted like dust in his mouth and felt like cement sliding down his throat, but he forced himself to swallow bite after bite.

Meanwhile, Gaius had unwrapped Merlin's outfit for the games and was now frowning in confusion. He held up a pair of thin yet durable cotton pants, a blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a lightweight brown jacket as well as a pair of sturdy boots perfect for running.

"Looks like the arena will be rather temperate climate-wise this year," he muttered. "But I can't tell much else from this outfit."

Merlin shrugged, downing a glass of water and taking the clothes over to a curtained-off area to change. He emerged from behind the screen tying the neckerchief securely at his collar with trembling fingers when a robotic female voice announced that he had, "Sixty seconds until launch." Gaius helped him don his jacket and then pulled him into a tight hug.

"Good luck, my boy," he breathed into Merlin's ear. "Your destiny awaits." Merlin pulled away, Gaius holding him at arm's length. "Don't be afraid to use your talents. But be careful."

Merlin nodded mutely, his pulse roaring in his ears and his palms sweating already. His hands shook uncontrollably. "Goodbye, Gaius. Thank you. For everything."

The older man's eyes watered and he hugged Merlin again. "I'm betting on you, Emrys," he murmured.

Merlin forced his legs to carry him over to the metal launch pad and he stepped gingerly up onto the disk, remembering uncomfortably the year a girl had stepped off early and had been blown sky-high by the landmines surrounding her plate.

"Ten seconds until launch," the voice announced.

A glass screen lowered around him and Gaius waved sadly. The plate began to rise and Merlin's heart rose into his throat. He was going to die! He was going to die!

The launch room disappeared beneath him and there was only darkness as the tube continued its inexorable ascent. A searing pain suddenly erupted along Merlin's right forearm, and he clasped his hand to it instinctively, hissing in agony as a pain five times that of the tracker injection enveloped it, fading into a dull throb. He would have been sick then and there if not for his fear of what would happen if his weight were to shift dramatically on the plate.

Cautiously pushing up his sleeve and straining his eyes against the dim lighting, Merlin froze in shock. The Triskelion! Just like the one he had seen on Arthur's forearm in his dream! Then it hit him; why that symbol had seemed so familiar. It had glowed on the wall in his vision about his and Arthur's births! He fingered the mark gently, the skin hot to the touch. What was going on?

Light flooded his view and he blinded rapidly to clear his vision as his launch pad emerged into the brilliant morning light. Ready or not, the Games had begun!


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin immediately pushed the matter of his recent branding to the back of his mind and took a deep breath to compose himself and to banish the nausea.

"Welcome to the Sixty-first Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!" a phantom voice boomed, and all was quiet as the countdown began. Sixty seconds until the blood would begin to flow, but right now Merlin needed a plan.

Surveying his surroundings, Merlin realized with a scowl that they had been placed in a cobblestone courtyard of a towering castle. At least that part of his dreams made sense, but the surrounding walls would make escape extremely difficult. The only way out was to either run through the portcullis to his right or to flee into the castle; a deathtrap once the Careers inevitably commandeered it. Forty-five seconds.

Merlin's searching gaze found Gwen across the circle from him and Elyan three plates away to her left. His eyes met Gwen's, and she motioned toward the cornucopia, a questioning expression on her face. Thirty seconds.

He resisted the urge to groan as he saw that the supplies had been scattered around the courtyard to entice the tributes to participate in the bloodbath. But he knew that he, Gwen, and Elyan desperately needed the supplies and doubted that they would ever have another chance at the cornucopia once they fled the bloodbath due to the fact that the Careers would guard it fiercely. Glancing back up at Gwen, he nodded, and she passed it on to Elyan. Twenty seconds.

Merlin spotted a bright red backpack about ten yards in front of him and shifted into a ready stance, prepared to sprint over, grab it, and run for his life. Ten seconds.

To his left stood the blond girl from District Six and to his right stood Gwaine, who surveyed the scene with an eager grin on his face, obviously ready for the action to begin. He would doubtlessly plunge directly into the heart of the bloodbath. The girl, on the other hand, looked ready to dash from the area at the soonest opportunity. Merlin only wished he could follow her. Somehow his gaze met Arthur's, five plates to his left, the slight confusion in the blond boy's cerulean eyes hidden under a mask of determination, his jaw set. Then the buzzer went off and the link was broken.

Merlin pumped his arms and legs like a madman, swooping down next to the backpack, snatching it up, and sprinting for the exit. He chanced a glance behind him for Gwen and Elyan, but didn't see them anywhere. Panic seized him. Two unrecognizable bodies already littered the ground, blood pooling onto the flagstones.

Suddenly a strain of unearthly music floated eerily through the air, and Merlin noticed young Helen still standing on her plate, singing. Tributes were dropping like flies as the melody reached them, and Merlin frantically covered his ears. Helen had magic!

Cobwebs crept across the cornucopia and spread from the walls. It was as if the bloodbath was a statue garden, abandoned to nature's mercy for years and forgotten. Even the sun itself seemed to dim, and the colors of the courtyard faded. The song echoed from the silent marble parapets, and as it reached a climax, Merlin could only stand and watch in bewilderment as Helen stepped gingerly off her plate and strode forward, never breaking eye contact with something in front of her.

All the tributes now lay among the dead. Trying desperately to figure out what the young girl was doing, Merlin alighted upon a certain golden mop of hair. Helen was going to kill Arthur!

Some small part of him cheered her on, wanted him to go over and help her, even. That arrogant bully deserved what he got. But deep down, Merlin knew that he couldn't let Arthur die out of spite, for it would forsake the future the prophesy spoke of Arthur creating. The mark on his forearm burned with an icy fire, and any doubts he had melted away. Their destinies were intertwined, and Merlin could be damned if he didn't make the best of it.

Helen knelt slowly to pick up a dagger and wound up to throw it in a deadly arc into the blond boy's prone chest. Then all hell broke loose. A spear from across the ring rose silently into the air and launched itself into her back, and Helen fell with a choked cry that brought tears to Merlin's eyes. He'd just murdered a child! How was that the right thing to do? It wasn't. But he had to protect Arthur.

The spider webs began to disintegrate into dust as the rest of the tributes slowly awoke from their stupor and rose from their prone positions on the ground. Everyone stood, confused, with weapons grasped loosely in hands and eyes searching for an explanation.

Then he realized. There had never been a cannon signifying Helen's death as there should have been since the battle at the cornucopia was over for the most part. So the girl was alive! Turning to where he had last seen her, Merlin watched in horror as Helen summoned the last vestiges of strength she could muster in a last-ditch effort to complete her mission. From her position on the ground, the dagger flew, spinning and gleaming in the sunlight, spelling certain death for the tribute standing in its path.

Somehow he could taste Arthur's fear, bitter and metallic like the smell of blood, but worse was the overwhelming sense of resignation coming from the boy as he awaited his death. Merlin's eyes glowed molten gold, time slowed, and he launched himself at Arthur with unnatural speed, pulling him to the ground as the dagger flashed harmlessly over their heads, embedding itself in the soft gold of the cornucopia with a thump. Helen stared back at the two boys with dead eyes, slumping to the ground in defeat as her cannon sounded at last along with two others, signifying the casualties of the bloodbath.

The rest of the tributes had either made an alliance with the Careers or had already fled- all but Merlin, Elyan, and Gwen.

Arthur shoved Merlin off of him, staring at him in shock. "Why did you just save my life?" he demanded. When Merlin stubbornly refused to answer, he continued with a grimace. "I owe you a debt of gratitude." He paused, turning to face Elyan and Gwen. "You two are rather good with a sword. How would you like to join the Career pack?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Lucky chapter number thirteen! :) This one is short, but I didn't feel like it went with the next bit, so here it is.**

**In the Capitol…**

"Welcome to the Sixty-first Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!" boomed a large man wearing the purple robes of Head Gamemaker. He beamed in satisfaction as the control room thrummed to life and the countdown began, displayed by a glowing hologram above a model of the arena in the center of the room. Although his position was less than secure, it was moments like these that made his job worth the fear of execution. The honor of creating another successful Games was quite a reward indeed. In a few weeks, he would be the most sought-after man in the Capitol.

Having launched the tributes into the arena, the assistant gamemakers filed one by one into the control room to take their seats at various monitors at the perimeter of the room. That's when it all went wrong. The lights flickered and all the screens went black except from a strange triangular spiral symbol burning brightly on the displays. The only remaining light came from the live feed showing the blood bath as well as the soft glow from the map of the arena. A young man rushed over to him with a clipboard.

"We've lost all control over the arena," he reported, the pure terror in his expression the only explanation needed to convey the desperation of the situation if the gamemakers wished to keep their lives. "Some force has pushed out all our connections," he gulped. "And I don't know how that's even possible."

Nervous muttering filled the small space, and suddenly a deep voice cried out, anonymous in the gathering darkness. "It's magic. And only one would have the power to do such a thing. Emrys."

The room was suddenly silent as a tomb. The Head Gamemaker's attention turned to the footage of the bloodbath as a raven-haired young man's eyes flashed a dangerous gold and a spear levitated in midair.

Claudius Ackerman, Head Gamemaker of the Sixty-first Hunger Games was a dead man. They all were.


	14. Chapter 14

Merlin reflected that the day hadn't exactly gone according to plan. At all. Not seeing any other option, he, Gwen, and Elyan had reluctantly agreed to join the Career pack and had helped in claiming and fortifying the castle all afternoon. Now, the three allies lay side-by-side on blanket rolls on the floor of the main hall, not having quite earned the trust of the rest of the group enough to claim their own rooms. The Careers, namely Arthur, had made it quite clear that they were being watched closely at all times and that a nightly watch had been posted at the castle gate to ensure their loyalty. If they were to run away or proved useless to the alliance, they would die. Plain and simple.

He rolled over onto his side, examining the mark on his arm. At least this way he could protect Arthur more easily, seeing that it seemed to have the painful side-effect of burning whenever the other boy was in danger. And there was that strange instant when Merlin could have sworn that he could feel Arthur's fear and turmoil. But he must have been imagining it. Sighing, Merlin reasoned that he would likely have plenty more opportunities to find out. He had a feeling that the threat from Helen was only the first of many on the prat's life.

Even though the castle was surrounded on three sides by sheer cliffs and the portcullis shut automatically at sundown, Arthur had still insisted that a guard be posted at the gate to keep watch. It was a perfect excuse to be alone in the crisp, clear night air where he could think, so Arthur had volunteered to take first watch.

He looked down at his forearm in the dark, tracing the design with the tip of his dagger. Why did he have a magical mark on his wrist? Maybe he'd been cursed. Or maybe he was having some strange reaction to the tracker injection. No, that was extremely unlikely… magic was the only explanation. A desperate idea occurred to him. If he could just cut the skin with the mark on it, maybe he could get rid of it. He brought his dagger down onto his bare skin with shaking hands only to have an unseen force make his knife bounce harmlessly from his grasp at the last second before impact. He stooped down to retrieve the blade and tried again with the same result. If that patch of skin was invincible, so to speak, perhaps having this symbol on the inside of his arm wasn't all bad. He'd just have to be careful to keep his sleeves over the area and to wear gloves.

The anthem blared across the arena as the Capitol seal appeared in the clear night sky. Three deaths; Helen, the girl from Nine, and the girl from Ten. That must have made it the smallest bloodbath in the history of the Games. Arthur lowered his eyes. His picture should have been up there tonight with the rest of the vanquished, yet it wasn't. Why had Merlin, hapless, cheery, mysterious, and apparently deadly _Merlin _chosen to save him from the girl's dagger? Guiltily, he acknowledged that the boy should hate him, yet he had saved his life, and Arthur felt somehow drawn to the raven-haired boy despite his best efforts.

Again, "There's something about you, Merlin. I just can't quite put my finger on it."

The flagstone floor was cold and hard to the touch as Merlin lay shivering, the last awake in the shadowy throne room. He knew he should be long asleep, yet he felt more awake than he ever had in his life as he listened to Gwen's soft, slow breathing next to him.

_"Merlin…"_

He sat bolt upright, flinging off the threadbare blanket he had been given and casting about the hall in search of the phantom voice.

_"Merlin…"_

It was coming from beneath him. Merlin rested his ear to the icy stone and waited.

_"Merlin…"_

Some instinct or impulse had now had him running through torchlit corridors buried deep below the castle, searching for an answer. Who was calling to him at this time of night that wanted to meet him alone in the bowels of the fortress? A tremor of fear tingled down his spine, but he shook it off, grabbing a torch off the wall and turning to jog down a short flight of stairs, where he found himself at a dead end. He pulled up in shock. The floor dropped off and he now stood on the precipice of a cleft hanging out into the middle of a cathedral-sized cavern, giant crags of rock towering higher than the castle walls.

_"Merlin."_

A gale of wind swept through the tunnels, ruffling Merlin's hair and making the torch flicker dangerously. What he saw next was a sight that he would never forget as long as he lived. With a thundering boom that seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle, a mountainous dragon alighted upon a rocky spire in front of him, bending its scaly neck in order to stare its molten gold eyes directly into Merlin's blue ones. A throaty chuckle escaped its toothy maw, and it was so close that Merlin could feel its hot breath blowing the hair from his forehead. His magic rose to the surface, crackling along his skin and to his fingertips, futilely preparing to protect him from this new, perceived threat.

"Ah, at last. The great warlock appears. How small you are for such a great destiny."

"And what would you know about my destiny?" Merlin called.

"Everything."

Suddenly the deep, rasping voice sounded undeniably familiar. "You! You're the one who sent me those dreams!"

The dragon lowered his head in acknowledgement. "It was I. Your gift was given to you for a reason. Arthur is the Once and Future King, who will reunite Albion."

"Right." Merlin him on impatiently, his fear turning to frustration with the creature's repetition and ambiguity. "I know that."

Blinking in amusement, the dragon continued. "Patience, young warlock. The young king will face many trials along the way with threats from friend and foe alike. Without you, Arthur will never become king and Albion will never be reunified."

"I've got that part, but how on earth is Arthur the Once and Future King? There must be another Arthur, because this one is a complete idiot. Not to mention an arrogant, supercilious prat. And how am I supposed to protect someone who hates me?"

"You know he's the one, young warlock. You and Arthur share a mark do you not? That your and Arthur's paths lie together is but the truth. And the bond has already been formed, your task begun. Your efforts have already saved Arthur's life once, and this is only the beginning of the road to a great destiny."

With a single thrust of his wings, the dragon disappeared from sight, chains clanking as he pulled them upward.

"Wait! Come back! I don't need another riddle, I need information! I don't even know your name!"

"My name is Kilgarrah," was the sardonic reply, and the cavern was silent save for the wound of Merlin's heavy breathing, blowing out of his mouth in small, silvery puffs. He sank to the floor, overwhelmed.

"There's a dragon, a real dragon, under the castle," was all he could manage. He pulled himself upright and staggered back the way he came, finally ending up back in the throne room after several wrong turns. He sank gratefully onto the floor, not even bothering with a blanket, and immediately fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.

**A/N: So here is a much longer chapter to hold you over until I can miraculously find time to write again. Tomorrow school starts, and it's back to reality. :p I will try to update on weekends, but I can't let this get in the way of schoolwork, or my parents will kill me, and I already have VERY limited time due to band and swimming. So sorry for the backstory, but bottom-line is that the next chapter hasn't been written yet and will be at least a week if not two. Thanks and sorry! And if you have any ideas about how to introduce Valiant's threat toward Arthur with his snake-shield-thing than that would be great... not sure yet what I'm going to do.**

**h2ofalcon**


	15. Chapter 15

He was shaken awake the next morning by Elyan, who hauled him to his feet, handing him a chunk of bread. His stomach rumbled eagerly, and he immediately shoved a large bite into his mouth.

"We're off to hunt for other tributes this morning," announced Elyan grimly. "Arthur's orders. Gwen and I are headed west with Leon, and Percival. You're to head east with Morgana, Valiant, and Arthur. Gwaine is to stay here and guard the gate."

Merlin groaned, and Elyan grinned, clapping him on the back and offering him a mace. "Don't worry, mate. I'm sure you'll be just fine."

Seeing that he was awake, Gwen rushed over. Merlin looked her up and down, noticing that she was fully equipped, just like Elyan, with chainmail, a sword, and several daggers at her belt. She looked pale but determined, and Merlin knew how she felt. He had no desire to have anyone else's blood on his hands.

"Who gave you that?" he motioned to her garments.

"I did," replied a familiar voice, and Arthur stepped into the hall with the rest of the Careers at his side. Everyone turned expectantly toward him. Merlin noted with interest that Gwen was blushing furiously.

"We move out now," Arthur commanded, and they all crowded out of the keep and down the white marble steps. The cornucopia gleamed in the predawn glow and dried bloodstains marred the cobblestones, a constant reminder of the prior day's violence.

As the first rays of light shone over the battlements, the gates swung open silently open, and Arthur strode through without hesitation. The rest followed, splitting up on their separate paths. Gwen sent Merlin one, last sympathetic glance before turning and disappearing into the trees.

The morning was awkwardly quiet, and thankfully completely eventful, save for Arthur's growls of annoyance every time Merlin stepped on a twig or tripped on a root, which was quite often. Now the midday sun had risen over the treetops, and sweat dripped down their brows and drenched their clothing.

"We'll stop here for lunch," Arthur announced, stabbing his sword into the ground in frustration. Merlin made to plop himself wearily down on a log when a hand roughly grabbed his arm. "What do you think you're doing?" Arthur demanded. "After being absolutely useless this morning, you had better hope you're a decent cook."

The Careers sat down where Merlin had been, Morgana chatting flirtatiously with a surly Valiant and Arthur staring moodily into the distance. Merlin made his way over to the bags, grumbling under his breath as he pulled out several loaves of bread, apples, and goat cheese, making crude sandwiches.

"I'm done," he called, and Arthur and Morgana eagerly came over, the blonde's stomach rumbling loudly. Valiant, meanwhile, was acting strangely, gripping his shield in one hand and walking slowly over toward the group, a strange hissing filling the air. Morgana and Arthur, seemingly oblivious, grabbed their sandwiches from Merlin as Valiant grew ever closer, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

Mind racing, Merlin did the only thing he could think of. "Hey Valiant, Here's your lunch!" Arthur and Morgana turned to face the boy as he grabbed his lunch angrily from Merlin, his smirk turning into a deep scowl. They all settled down to eat, Merlin watching Valiant carefully as he sat on a boulder and set his shield against. It could have been his imagination, but Merlin was pretty sure the boy leaned over and whispered something to his shield, a large slab of wood painted a garish yellow and adorned with a venomous looking serpent.

The afternoon was as uneventful as the morning, as Merlin kept a close eye on Valiant, walking in the back of the group. Merlin had no idea what he was up to, but by the death glares he kept receiving over the older boy's shoulder, it couldn't have boded well for any of them.

They reached the castle gates in the early evening, where Gwaine leaned against the cool stone, looking bored out of his mind. Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "How were things on the home front?" he asked, grinning.

Gwaine moaned theatrically. "What do you think? I spent the ENTIRE day staring at TREES! Do you know what horrible conversationalists blades of grass are?"

"I take it that nothing happened then," Arthur laughed. "Tomorrow Merlin can take your place at the gates. Probably all he's useful for anyway. He probably scared away all the other tributes with his stomping around in the undergrowth."

Gwaine looked more serious. "So no luck then? That's what I figured, seeing as I didn't hear any canons."

Arthur nodded. "So that means that the others were unsuccessful as well. Tomorrow we travel further away from the castle."

Merlin's heart sank. How was he going to protect Arthur from Valiant if he was stranded at the castle? And what was Valiant up to?

A/N: so I hope you all enjoyed... I had a writing assessment at school yesterday, and I don't think I have ever written anything that bad in my life, so I wrote this to make sure I still know how. Let me know what you think of Valiant! :)


	16. Chapter 16

Merlin excused himself early from dinner, feigning exhaustion, and made his way to the small rooms he, Gwen, and Elyan had been assigned at the far end of the castle. He turned the corner and onto a long, twisting passageway. Glancing furtively around to make sure no one was following him, Merlin whipped around and broke into a run in the other direction towards the Careers' chambers, praying that he could finish his errand before everyone else finished eating. As he turned the corner onto the hallway of suites, he slowed to a walk, his feet light and silent on the flagstones.

The door to Valiant's room was bolted shut, but Merlin had been expecting that. _"Onlucan," _he muttered, and the bolt slid open with a clang that echoed down the empty corridor. Merlin froze in his tracks, wincing, but the sounds of laughter and the clanking of cutlery still floated upstairs from the main hall. Sighing in relief, Merlin gently slid the door open and ducked inside.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark, shadowed room, but not before he identified a strange hissing sound on the edge of his hearing, as if it were being muffled by something. Straining to hear the low-pitched sound, Merlin followed his ears to a rickety chair on the far side of the room by the bed, which was covered by an indistinct lump cloaked in a blanket. Whipping off the blanket, Merlin was only half-surprised to find the same shield Valiant had been carrying earlier in the forest, two silver-fanged snakes glaring menacingly at him with beady red eyes. It must have been his imagination, but in the dim light, Merlin could have sworn one of them blinked.

Something was off. Briefly brushing his fingertips against the crest on the shield, Merlin stood and turned to make sure he remained undiscovered. A rasping sound like the rubbing of scales against metal made Merlin's already elevated pulse roar in his ears, and his eyes instinctively shone gold, a broadsword flying off the rack of weapons and into his hand as he whirled around with a broad overhead stroke.

A serpentine mass was coiled, poised to strike with its fangs inches from his outstretched arm when the blade severed its head from its body, cold metal slicing through armored scales like a knife through butter. With a strangled hiss, the ruby-eyed head tumbled to the floor, its carcass falling from the shield it originated from after it.

The sword fell from Merlin's grasp with a clatter as he stared in shock at the shield. Valiant had magic? Or was there something else going on? It was possible that the boy had no idea the deadly potential that his shield had, but then why did Valiant act the way he did in the forest that morning?

His mind still whirling, Merlin didn't notice the quickly approaching footsteps until it was too late. Desperately, he tossed the cloak back over the chair, snatched up the snakehead, and dove into an empty wardrobe, just managing to shut the door behind him before Valiant stepped into the room. At first he seemed not to notice the signs of the recent conflict in his chambers, but then he nearly tripped over the discarded sword on the flagstone floor, noticing the green, scaly corpse sprawled on the rug. He swore quietly, seizing his shield before pivoting on one heel and rushing back the way he had come.

Merlin hesitated a second before following. He had to tell Arthur. Now Valiant knew his secret was out, and he would be more ruthless than ever, for if Merlin's suspicions were correct, his intentions were less than savory toward the rest of the career pack.

Arthur had just returned to his chambers and flopped onto the bed when a loud pounding on his door made him jump to his feet in alarm. Were they under attack? Were there mutts in the castle?

He jogged to the door and flung it open, only to find a flushed and slightly startled Merlin standing outside. "What are you doing here?" he demanded brusquely.

"I have to tell you something; something important."

Arthur frowned, looking the younger boy up and down. Merlin's shirt was dust-stained, eyes pleading, and he held one arm loosely behind his back. If the boy was trying to off him, then he certainly wasn't doing a very good job of it. Arthur reached his own arm behind his back and drew a dagger from his waistband. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he shouldered the door the rest of the way open and grudgingly ushered Merlin inside before shutting it behind them.

"Now what is it that's so important that you had to come barging into my rooms in the middle of the night?"

Merlin actually had the nerve to look indignant. "I did not barge in, I knocked. You're the one who threw the door open like you were afraid it might bite you."

"That," Arthur retorted, "was not knocking. More like you were taking a sledgehammer to it."

When Merlin actually looked like he was going to take the argument further, Arthur held up a hand. "I don't have time for this. What is it that you wanted to share with me?"

Merlin strode over to the table where Arthur stood and threw a scaly, green mass onto the rough surface with a thump. Arthur recoiled. "What in the bloody hell is that!?"

"This," replied Merlin with gusto, "is what I wanted to talk to you about."

Arthur nodded mutely, pocketing his dagger. Merlin certainly didn't seem to mean him any harm at the moment. He stepped closer to the table and cautiously reached out to pick up the scaly object. Congealed blood rolled sluggishly down his sleeve and red serpentine eyes surveyed him coldly. Arthur suppressed a shudder. Those fangs, even if not venomous, looked deadly. "Where did you get this?"

Merlin shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Erm… this is going to sound crazy but…" he took a deep breath. "It's from Valiant's shield. The…err… snakes on it come to life and I cut this one off when it tried to attack me. He used magic, Arthur, and he wants to kill you. I saw him try today in the forest."

Arthur hastily deposited the head back on the table and tried his best to look somewhat skeptical. But some completely irrational part of him said that Merlin was telling the truth. Why would fabricate such an outlandish tale anyway? He had always thought there was something off about Valiant, but Morgana had insisted on inviting him to join them on account of what she called his 'rugged looks'. His internal battle must have shown on his face because Merlin continued.

"I know that you don't trust me and my word doesn't count for anything, but I wouldn't lie to you."

Arthur stared Merlin in the eye, blue locked on icy blue. "I want you to swear to me what you're telling me is true."

Merlin replied without hesitation. "I swear it's true."

Someone knocked on the door for the second time that night. Arthur openly drew his dagger this time before answering it, revealing the very man they had just been discussing.

"Valiant-"he began, but the boy pushed past him to point a finger accusingly at Merlin's chest. "What rumors has this scum been spreading about me?" he spat angrily.

Merlin's eyes gleamed dangerously. "Scum?"

Arthur quickly stepped between the other two boys in an effort to repress the quickly escalating situation. "Now I'm sure we can handle this calmly without resorting to force-"

"He's been snooping around in my rooms!" Valiant growled. He whipped a square of cloth out of his pocket and smirked at the way all color drained from Merlin's face as he reflexively reached up to his collar where his neckerchief should have been.

Arthur turned to Merlin, eyebrows raised. "Is this true?"

"Yes," the raven-haired boy admitted, "but I only did it to try and understand the threat he was making on your life."

Valiant snorted loudly and Arthur's pulse surged with inexplicable anger. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. How had he missed Valiant's foul character before the Games? He wanted so badly to believe Merlin, but he didn't see how he could under the circumstances.

"I have reason to believe that you are using a magic shield with the intention of using it to kill the rest of the Career pack." Arthur winced to himself at how feeble that sounded.

Valiant's skeptically irate expression never wavered. "This is ridiculous! I've never used magic. Does your little scumbag have any proof to support his claim?"

Arthur held up the snakehead in response. "Merlin was attacked by the serpents on your shield, and he managed to behead one of them."

It could have been a trick of the light, but Arthur could have sworn that the other boy looked unnerved for the briefest of moments. He looked at Merlin in disbelief. "You?" he scoffed. "You chopped its head off!?"

"I did get an eleven in training," Merlin reminded him coldly.

"That snakehead could have come from anywhere! Am I really to be judged on the hearsay of a boy who has just confessed of sneaking around in my chambers?"

Arthur had nothing to say to that. He rounded on the two boys. "Leave, both of you!" With a last dark glare, Valiant swept from the room, but Merlin stayed behind.

"I said leave!"

Desperation filled the younger boy's eyes. "But I wasn't lying!"

"I believed you, I trusted you, and you made me look like a complete fool! Now Valiant will probably go off and tell the others all the ridiculous things I just accused him of, and I'll either be the laughingstock of the Careers or I'll be on the top of everyone's target list. You HUMILIATED me!"

"Please just trust me," Merlin pleaded. "I'll prove that Valiant was trying to use magic to kill you."

"For the last time, GET OUT!" Arthur roared. As the door slammed behind the raven-haired boy his forearm burned with an icy fire and Arthur sank onto the bed and put his head into his hands. He couldn't afford to trust anyone anymore.

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back! (finally!) All I can say is that life is INSANE right now... I really should be doing homework, but what's the fun in that? Hope you enjoyed the chapter... at last some Merlin/Arthur action! :) **


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Here's a nice looong chapter with some action! Enjoy!**

Merlin ran blindly through the castle, mind numb and tears of anger streaming down his face unheeded as he blindly went wherever his feet would carry him. The air grew musty, and the floor fell away as Merlin found himself in the same cavern as the night before. This time the dragon was waiting for him, molten eyes staring at him intently.

"I just came to tell you that whatever you think my destiny is, whatever it is you think I am supposed to do, you've got the wrong person!" Merlin called in frustration, his voice cracking on the last syllable. "That's it… goodbye."

A deep rumbling of laughter echoed through the air. "If only it were so easy to escape one's destiny."

Merlin swiped at his face roughly with his sleeve and directed his angry gaze toward Kilgarrah. "How can our destinies be intertwined if Arthur hates me!?"

"A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole." The dragon responded mysteriously, his aloofness beginning to get on Merlin's already frayed nerves. "Very soon you shall understand that."

"Oh, great. Just what I needed; another riddle," Merlin snapped irritably.

"You know, young warlock, this is not the end. It is merely the beginning," the dragon called, his parting remark resounding off the crags of stone.

Merlin ground his teeth in frustration. "Just give me a straight answer, would you!?" But the dragon was already gone.

The next day dawned cold and clear, and Merlin watched with a scowl as the rest of the Careers bustled around the castle, chatting animatedly, as they equipped themselves for the coming day's hunt. The moment their voices had faded into the distance, he threw his spear to the ground with a clatter and ran from the gate to the library he had found the prior evening. Arthur may have left him at the castle and ignored his warnings, but Merlin wasn't going to let him get killed.

The heavy doors banged shut as Merlin sprinted through them, arms windmilling wildly as he tried to stop his forward progress into the mountain of dusty tomes that he had compiled on his last visit, but it was in vain. He slammed into it full force with a muffled crash, books flying every which way and sliding across the stone floor. Groaning, Merlin gingerly pulled himself to his feet, nursing a very bruised elbow where it had collided with a heavy oak bookshelf. Finding the correct spell was going to be even harder than he had thought. And Arthur was out there that very minute, completely at Valiant's mercy. Hurriedly, Merlin stooped over to pick up the volume by his left foot and opened it clumsily, eyes flashing gold as he scanned the pages magically for what he was looking for.

Several hours and fifty-three books later, Merlin let out a cry of triumph. It had been a complete gamble to assume that the library would have the information he needed, but it had paid off. Scanning the room, he alighted upon a dog statue standing in a corner, and stared at it in fierce concentration, reaching towards it with one hand and balancing the heavy tome in the other. "_Bebay odothay arisan quickum!"_

The stone dog stood stubbornly in the corner looking no different than it had moments before. "_Bebay odothay arisan quickum!"_ Nothing. Merlin dropped the spellbook to the ground with a muffled thump and a cloud of dust, shut his eyes and reached both hands out towards it, trying again to no avail. He laid both hands heavily on its cold marble head. He tried whispering in its ear. No change. Walking towards the door, Merlin whipped around, yelling the spell in frustration.

He shook his head, frowning. Magic usually came so easily to him. Why was this spell proving to be so difficult? The mark on his forearm throbbed unpleasantly, and Merlin knew his time was up. The dragon may not have provided him with anything other than cryptic riddles, but Merlin knew from experience that any pain from the symbol on his arm meant that Arthur was in danger, and he had to get to him before Valiant could finish him off. Muttering the spell to himself under his breath, Merlin sprinted from the library and out the gate. Behind his quickly receding footsteps, an enormous Rottweiler stepped off the marble pedestal and began pacing across the creaky floorboards, toenails clicking against the panels.

Merlin had never been someone who enjoyed running, yet he found himself flying through the forest at breakneck speeds, the surrounding trees a blur of color as he leaped over roots and low-lying shrubs with a coordination that he rarely displayed, letting his instincts guide him. All he could hear was his blood roaring in his ears and the steady pounding of his feet on the forest floor until a shout of alarm echoed through the trees, spurring Merlin to even greater speeds.

The forest suddenly came to an end, and he found himself confronted with a large clearing and the clanging of steel on steel. Diving behind a nearby outcropping of rock, Merlin saw with alarm that Valiant and Arthur were alone, Elyan's unconscious form slumped against a nearby stump, and that the two boys were matched blow for blow. Arthur was obviously the more skilled of the two, and had already managed to knock the other boy's helmet off, but Valiant had the advantage of his shield and build. Arthur was by no means short, but Valiant had at least six inches on him, and used his enormous wingspan to rain blow after devastating blow, Arthur deftly parrying his every strike. But his reactions were slowing, frustration and the grim knowledge that he couldn't last much longer dawning in his eyes. He had to end this now. Valiant seemed to sense Arthur's change in attitude the moment Merlin did, and grinned savagely, intensifying his attack. Merlin looked around in desperation, mark burning, as Valiant swung his shield underhand into Arthur's face with a sickening crunch and the blond boy crumpled to the ground.

Merlin let out a muffled cry, but Arthur parried the older boy's downward stroke from the floor and had already rolled away from Valiant's sword, which stabbed into the dirt inches away from his chest. Arthur vaulted to his feet in an instinctive motion that likely took a lifetime of training to master, and backed away, obviously dazed from the blow to the head, as Valiant charged at him with an enraged yell. He knocked the sword from Arthur's loose grip and shoved him against a tree trunk. With a desperate effort, Arthur pushed the giant of a boy off of him and earned himself a few more feet of space to maneuver. It was now or never. Merlin shut his eyes and prayed to whatever higher power that might happen to be listening that the spell would work this time. "_Bebay odothay arisan quickum!"_

Someone was obviously listening. With a spine-chilling hiss, the two remaining serpents uncoiled themselves from Valiant's shield, venomous jaws snapping lethally on air. Valiant's cocky smirk disappeared. "What are you doing? I didn't summon you!"

At that moment, Morgana, Gwen, Gwaine, and Percival burst through the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, eyes widening in shock as they found Elyan's prone form and saw the duel in progress. They began to rush to Arthur's aid, only to have their progress impeded by an invisible barrier surrounding the two warriors.

It was Arthur's turn to smile grimly. "Now everyone will see you for what you truly are," he spat. Valiant simple looked down at the snakes, who turned their ruby-eyed gaze to him.

"Kill him," he commanded. Arthur could only backpedal frantically, weaponless, as the two serpents unattached themselves from the shield and slithered towards him. Merlin racked his brain desperately for another spell to save him, but Morgana was faster.

"Arthur!" she cried, reaching across Gwaine and unsheathing his sword. "Catch!"

The sword glistened as it flew through the air, landing neatly in Arthur's outstretched hand as he effortlessly reversed the blade's momentum to decapitate both snakes in one swing. He then stepped over their carcasses and started towards Valiant. The boys exchanged several blows before Arthur's anger overcame the other boy's defenses. He caught Valiant in a deadly embrace. "I guess Merlin was right about you," he whispered. Then he plunged his sword into the boy's chest, and Valiant stared back at him with a perplexed expression as Arthur released him disdainfully and he fell to the ground dead. A cannon shot echoed through the arena.

Merlin resisted the urge to cheer, remembering he was supposed to be guarding the gate back at the castle. He lingered in the shadows several moments longer, watching as the others, able to move at last, rushed over to Arthur, who handed Gwaine back his weapon and impatiently brushed off everyone's worried comments with his usual sarcastic comments, and Elyan, who stirred weakly and was able to stand with some help from Percival and Gwen. Deciding that all was well, Merlin stood and jogged back to the citadel, the return journey taking much longer than his full-out flight several minutes ago. He had just caught his breath, fetched his spear from where he had discarded it in the courtyard, and managed to assume a deathly-bored expression when the rest of the Careers came filing out of the forest.

He looked over their depleted ranks and weary appearance with an innocently worried expression plastered on his face. "What happened?" he asked.

Arthur didn't meet his gaze. "We split up in the woods, and Elyan and I were ambushed by Valiant. He knocked Elyan out and we fought, and he almost won too. But I killed him."

Morgana smirked. "It's not every day a girl gets to save Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur's face reddened. "I wouldn't say I exactly needed saving. I'm sure I would have come up with something."

"Because you're too embarrassed to admit that you were saved by a girl!" retorted Morgana.

"Because I wasn't."

"If I hadn't thrown you Gwaine's sword to kill the snakes-"

"It doesn't matter!" interjected Elyan wearily, and the two tributes from district one fell silent. "Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving!"

Percival nodded in agreement. "Me too."

"Me three!" exclaimed Gwaine exuberantly, and he waved the rest of the group up the stairs. "I think I hear a nice big bowl of stew calling my name!"

Everyone moved to follow Gwaine, and Arthur finally met Merlin's gaze, the unspoken message of '_I told you so'_ mirrored in Merlin's eyes. Arthur nodded silently, clapping Merlin on the shoulder before hurrying to catch up with Leon, leaving the raven-haired boy staring at his back as he strode away. "_Mer_lin_!_ Why is there a dog in the kitchen?!" Merlin gulped, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he rushed to follow Arthur. So his spell had worked! "Merlin!"


	18. Chapter 18

President Snow gingerly lifted a glass of wine to his lips as he stared contemplatively out over his prized rose garden. He'd have to speak to the head gardener. The crimson blossoms didn't seem to be blooming as vibrantly this spring, and every member of the house staff was only too aware of the President's fondness for his specially-engineered blood roses.

A sudden coughing fit racked his body, and President Snow gently lowered the wine glass from crimson-stained lips, the pale liquid inside stained by a spreading cloud of deep red. A knock sounded from the door, and he turned away from the window, motioning for a servant to retrieve his wine glass and dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief.

"Enter," He demanded coldly.

The Head Gamemaker stepped reluctantly into the room, a haunted expression on his face. President Snow noted with interest that his usually resplendent amethyst robes were rumpled and worn, and bruise-like shadows lingered under his eyes. This was a man who knew his fate and was utterly resigned to it. Good, President Snow reflected. He really wasn't in the mood for hysterics this morning.

"Why Claudius, how kind of you to join me. Why don't you take a seat?" Snow motioned towards an armchair by his desk and watched as the man stumbled silently over to it, taking a seat of his own between the gamemaker and the door.

"I brought you here today in the hope that you could perhaps enlighten me on the Hunger Games situation. I could have imagined it, but haven't several of the tributes displayed an affinity for magic at this point? Why are they not dead yet?"

Beads of sweat formed on the gamemaker's pasty forehead, but he remained mired in a state of hopeless silence.

"Perhaps…" President Snow leaned forward, whispering menacingly, "You have yet to kill the magical scum because you lack the ability to. Perhaps one of those vile whelps has outwitted you…"

Claudius Ackerman remained rigid in his seat, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing. President Snow sighed deeply. "You see, Claudius, I brought you here today because I have a proposal for you. A proposal that I believe you will like much better than the… less pleasant alternatives."

The gamemaker's head bobbed slightly, and the President took that as his cue to continue. "I know what is bothering you, Claudius. The arena, and therefore the games themselves, have slipped out of your grasp, out of your control. You fear my wrath, as you should, but I'll tell you what bothers me. The boy from District Eleven. Merlin. Many believe he is Emrys, and therefore he poses a significant threat to the authority of the Capitol, to my authority. If that boy is allowed to live, the people of Panem will rise up in revolt, and the last filthy vestiges of magic that plague us will grow stronger by the day, until they are ready to sabotage all that I have worked for over the course of the past seventeen years. And we don't want that, do we?"

Claudius shook his head hastily, ripping his gaze from the opposite wall to glance at the President with a shred of hope in his eyes as he continued.

"Good. I am prepared to make you a deal. Am I correct in assuming that, although you have no control over the arena itself, that you have been able to maintain a hold over the mutations?"

Claudius nodded stiffly.

"Perfect." Snow absently fingered the damp bloodstains on his handkerchief. "Here is my proposal. I want that boy dead. You have one week to get it done- in any way necessary. If you succeed, I just might decide to let you live."

"And if I fail?" Claudius croaked.

President Snow's mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "Then I will personally put an end to your miserable life faster than you can say 'Panem'."

Claudius Ackerman forced a weak smile onto his haggard face before fleeing from the room, the President allowing a malicious chuckle to escape his lips before being wracked by another coughing fit.

An unearthly screeching ripped the inhabitants of the castle from sleep that night, a shadowy form gliding over the castle on silent wings, crying its defiance to the wind. Within minutes everyone was gathered on the battlements, peering futilely into the inky blackness of the sky. Merlin rubbed at his eyes blearily and stepped behind Elyan.

"What do you reckon is making that noise?" he murmured nervously.

Elyan shook his head. "I don't know."

The ear-splitting shrieks faded into the distance, and Merlin could make out Elyan's shoulders relaxing marginally in the darkness.

"Everyone should go back to bed," Arthur ordered. "I'll keep watch for whatever that thing was. The Capitol must be tired of the lack of blood these games have had to offer so far and sent something to attack us. We'll just have to be on our guard."

Gwaine offered to stay with Arthur, and the rest of the group trudged uneasily back to bed. Merlin lay awake, shivering under his thin blankets. Privately, he agreed with Arthur. After defeating Valiant, the arena had been left in a state of tensely suspended animation, and for the last several days the Careers had quietly patrolled the area surrounding the castle without incident. With such a small bloodbath and an extreme lack of action stretching over the entire first week, it was no wonder the viewers were getting bored.

Now that he thought about it, Merlin was genuinely surprised he was still alive himself. The rest of the tributes may have been too blind so far to notice his spontaneous acts of magic, but he doubted it had escaped the notice of those watching in the Capitol and back home. Surely the gamemakers should have at least _attempted_ to kill him off by now. Yet nothing so far had proved to be a threat to his own life; just Arthur's. Something was wrong about these games, and Merlin fully intended to find out what that was.

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry, I know I haven't posted a chapter in forever, but reality got in the way for a while. This is kind of a filler chapter to explain what's going on back in the Capitol, and I'm really sorry for the cliffhanger, but since I have the day off tomorrow, I'm hoping too get another chapter posted then to make up for it all. :) From here on, I'm going to be deviating a bit from the order of events in the show, but don't worry. I have a plan, and need some things to happen in a slightly different order for things to work out the way I want them to. I know some of you have mentioned that you want this to stay true to canon, and I will try to do so in many respects, but sadly this won't be happening all the time. (As you may be able to guess from the end of this chapter, I skipped a few episodes here.) Anyway, sorry for the absurdly long Author's note, and I hope you enjoy!**


	19. Chapter 19

The next day found them all sleep deprived and irritable, but the morning passed without incident, and they all went about their usual duties around the castle, careful not to stray too far from the comforting shelter of the outer walls. Morgana had been assigned dinner duty, to which she grudgingly agreed, and had sent Merlin out to collect herbs for her stew with a smirk, a large wicker basket, and a half-sarcastic warning to stay close to the castle. Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that she had only sent him on such a useless mission because she was jealous that he had gotten out of cooking the night after Valiant died.

He crunched his way noisily through the undergrowth despite his best efforts, glancing nervously about him any time he snapped a twig or tripped and cried out involuntarily. Trying to pick herbs while looking at the surrounding trees was no easy feat, and Merlin could have sworn that the wild sage was going out of its way to cling to the dirt. Straightening and risking a quick glance into the basket looped over his arm, Merlin frowned. He still hadn't come across any thyme, and would have to venture deeper into the forest to find it. Sighing, he resolved that he could always use his magic as long as he was outside the view of the citadel, and crept deeper into the trees. Morgana was not one to be kept waiting.

After only a couple minutes, Merlin was relieved to see several sprigs of the herb in question poking up through the roots of a nearby shrub, and hurriedly stuffed them into the basket with the rest of the greenery. Jogging back the way he came, Merlin became uncomfortably aware of the silence that had fallen over the forest. He stopped in his tracks. There was no chattering of squirrels, no birdsong; it seemed that he was the only living thing for miles around. Hair prickling along the back of his neck, Merlin slowly turned around to find nothing unusual lurking in the shadows behind him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

A breeze rustled through the branches, and Merlin was about to turn around and continue his trek back to the castle, full-out running this time, when an indistinct mass of wings and claws barreled through the air straight towards his unprotected chest, letting out an earsplitting shriek. His mind utterly blank, Merlin instinctively reached out a hand in a futile attempt to stop the talons from slicing through his bare skin like parchment, screwing his eyes shut. He registered a clang of claws on steel and a startled squawk before realizing that miraculously, the pain wasn't coming.

Merlin's eyes flew open just in time to see a dark-haired boy brandishing a sword menacingly at a large, lion-like creature with wings. Where had he seen such a creature before? Releasing one last screech of rage and frustration, the beast launched itself into the air and disappeared above the forest canopy, the other tribute turning slowly to meet Merlin's startled gaze.

"Lancelot!?"

The tribute in question allowed himself a wistful smile. "Hello Merlin."

"But…" Merlin fumbled for the words to say what he wanted. "Thanks… err… but why exactly did you save me?"

The smile fell abruptly from Lancelot's face. "You stood up for Helen when I didn't have the courage to. And for that, I believed I owed you something. Consider the debt repaid."

Merlin could only stare at the other boy in shock.

"Besides, that griffon is a nasty blighter. It's been flying overhead for hours now."

A griffon! Merlin know he'd seen it before somewhere. He could picture now in his mind's eye the pages in Gaius's book that had warned of the perils of being hunted by such a creature. He swallowed thickly, only too aware of his close encounter. "You certainly don't owe me anything, but I know I owe you my life. Why don't you come back to the castle with me? You'll be safer there if the griffon comes back, and I'm sure-"

Lancelot tensed suddenly as a familiar voice thundered through the trees. "Merlin! Where are you? What's going on? We heard the screeching, and-"Arthur stepped into the clearing, stopping short when he saw Lancelot's unfamiliar figure. He drew his sword with a whisper of steel and pointed it towards the boys. "Explain."

"He saved my life, Arthur."

A/N: Ha ha, only a day late! :P I should have learned by know with all the Fanfiction I've read not to promise updates within a certain timespan. Oh well, here it is. Seems like Merlin or Arthur running through the forest to save the other is becoming quite the pattern here, hmm? This one kind of took me in another direction from what I originally planned, which was going to be a bit closer to canon, but I like this better. :)


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